


Life and Death

by Hansine



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-06 18:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hansine/pseuds/Hansine
Summary: They had nothing to do with each other. He was the Lord of Life and she was the Lady of Death. But there was something about the other that drew them together, like moths to a flame. Consequences be damned.Chrobin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely, VERY LOOSELY, inspired by the story of Hades and Persephone. Expect some similarities, in broad strokes, but this story isn’t going to be an exact retelling of the tale. I mean, the Avatar’s role is Hades and Chrom’s role is Persephone, ish. The roles are very weirdly genderbent but not really (because I’m still using f!Avatar (named Stella) and Chrom is still a guy…). I can’t explain it very well unless I ramble so… read on! Thanks to Vulpixune for being my sounding board and reading through the drafts <3

“Olivia, what’s the surface like?” It was an innocent enough question. Stella was the goddess of the underworld and had no real reason to venture above. And even if she did, she always went straight to the heavens, finished the task at hand, then went straight back home. Unlike the other gods, she never really dawdled in the realm of the mortals, even though she could. Perhaps it was because she ruled over the dead and had no business among the living. They would come to her soon enough. But lately, she found herself wanting to go up to the surface to see new things. Staring at dark rock and ominous foliage tended to get boring after so long.

 

“Green…?” Olivia offered, trying to be helpful. “Well, not always green. Sometimes other colors too, depending on the season.” Olivia sometimes ventured out, usually to buy trinkets in the market. Lon’qu, her overprotective husband, accompanied her as well, mostly to keep the naive and sweet Olivia from getting scammed. “Want to go, Stella? I’m sure there’ll be a lull soon and you can take a couple of hours off without too much trouble.” Olivia smiled, putting a hand on Stella’s shoulder. The goddess shrugged, blowing a stray lock of white blonde hair away from her face.

 

“Not particularly. I was just wondering. Too much work now. I heard the goddess of love did something to spark a war with the Trojans,” Stella replied a little dryly. “Something about wife stealing and armies sailing to Troy for vengeance.” Olivia nodded somberly, not a fan of things that drove people to their deaths sooner rather than later. Stella opened the book beside her, new names appearing on the vellum pages, one side filling up more quickly than the other. “See what I mean, more work. Call Lon’qu and tell him he has many souls to wrangle this time. I’ll meet you both in the throne room.” Stella quickly shut her book as she stood, her simple cloak and tunic transforming itself into a magnificent dark violet and black gown, a gold-wrought laurel wreath weaving itself into her hair.

 

“As you wish, my lady.” Olivia picked up her skirts as she rushed to find her husband, more work coming in thanks to the war. It wasn’t terribly difficult, but there were many souls to guide to their proper places in the afterlife. The sheer number made her work and that of Lon’qu’s long and arduous. It was Olivia’s job to heal the souls of their regrets before leading them Elysium and to keep watch over the rivers and fields, Lon’qu’s to wrangle the misfits and miscreants to eternal damnation, subjugating any demons and upstarts who threatened the underworld. Stella’s work was less time consuming but more draining and mostly unconscious. She didn’t have to think much, she just did, her powers flowing out of her to maintain the five rivers and Elysium, quell most of the rebellions of the unhappy denizens of the underworld, and to judge all who die. 

 

The throne room was darkly furnished, faint beams of light peeking through the windows in the high vault ceilings. Low burning fires crackled in the stone insets, all freshly filled with chips of cedar and sandalwood. The heady aroma of the woods was sharp and soothing, like incense, the white smoke curling upwards slowly and gently. Stella was seated at the end of the long room, her throne carved from rock that jutted out from the center, worn down smooth by water. She raised her hand, fingers folding over as she beckoned to those beyond the hulking doors. Olivia and Lon’qu took their places to her right and left respectively, wailing souls entering, some Stella’s powers compelling them to regroup either in front of Olivia or Lon’qu.

 

“The dead, my lady,” Lon’qu announced tersely, left hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword. His eyes glinted like steel, the few souls who had inadvertently caught his gaze shrinking. “What is your judgment?” His voice boomed loud like a thunderclap, the dead before them suddenly standing ramrod straight as if afraid to incur their wrath.

 

“Those before you, to damnation,” she uttered, her eyes dull and unfeeling. Stella waved a hand over the wretched souls, strong shackles binding their wrists and their legs. Lon’qu nodded slowly, drawing his sword and dragging the blade behind him as he cut through the stone. A chasm opened and engulfed the thousands of damned, dragging them to the depths of the underworld as Lon’qu gracefully followed, an imperceptible devious smile on his face. When the stone righted itself, closing off the screams. 

 

“And these souls, my lady?” Olivia’s hand swept across the smaller number left, the dead shifting uncomfortably as images of curses and fire plagued them.

 

“Paradise.” Her eyes gained back some life, her smile warm as sighs of relief escaped from the ones left. Olivia slowly moved forward in a dance, a soft glow enveloping the entranced dead. All the pain was washing away, their meager clothes transformed into rich garments as they followed her into a portal to a vast field, to hard earned and justly deserved rest. The room was empty now, all souls judged and accounted for by the Hadean Grimoire, usually the case but there were instances when actions and motives did not quite line up, prompting a more thorough investigation.

 

A sigh of relief escaping Stella as she slumped down in her throne. The sheer number of dead today was particularly brutal, much of her power focused on suppressing any of the wretched from trying to escape before judgment. Her hair tumbled down, the wreath vanishing, her dress slowly changing back to her simpler cloak and tunic. Stella wasn’t much for the pomp and circumstance of judgment, sitting alone in her cold throne as she watched souls move to their lot in the afterlife. Something shifted in front of her, landing softly in her palm as she stretched forth. A green leaf. Her lips twitched into a small smile.

 

“Maybe I should go up next time.” She rubbed the leaf in between her fingers, what she assumed to be the smell of fresh cut grass wafting gently.

 

**—x—**

 

“Oh come on Blue, don’t be such a spoilsport.” With a flick of the wrist, a dagger flew gracefully, lodging itself on some cork hung up on the wall across, whizzing by the man called Blue. Or, more appropriately, Chrom, the god of weather and seasons. With an annoyed grunt, Chrom moved back to his desk, a large map unfurled.

 

“Gaius, I’m still not done with work. Unlike you.” Chrom paused, fingers idly running over the map on his desk. “Do you even work?” Gaius gasped, in mock offense.

 

“How dare you Sir, how dare you!” Gaius shook a fist at Chrom. “Of course I work. Pulling people into hijinks and shenanigans  _ is _ my work!”

 

Chrom rolled his eyes, looking back at the maps for the last time. “Seriously?” Gaius made an affirmative snort, picking up another dagger and flinging it expertly at the cork, landing right beside the earlier knife.

 

“Not the trickster and thieving god for nothing, Blue!” Gaius chirped, shuffling over to the wall and picking up the daggers he had been throwing for fun. “Now when are you going to finish so we can go and raid for sweets?” Gaius’ eyes were glimmering.

 

“I’m visiting Mother after,” Chrom replied simply, drawing the sword at his waist as he moved to the pool tucked at the far end of the room. Various colors were swirling, mesmerizing in its beauty.

 

“Oh. How is she?” Gaius sobered up.

 

“Not good.” Chrom lifted his left hand, fingers brushing against the liquid colors as he brought it level to his face. He flipped his hand flat, moving his arm left to right as he manipulated the tumult of chroma. 

 

“Sorry.” The orange-haired god scratched the back of his head, unsure how to deal with the talk of death. Gaius’ mother was an immortal creature like them, his father a god, so death wasn’t really in the cards. There were stories of beings like them dying, but they were few and far between, and it took much more to snuff them out compared to mortals. Chrom’s father was the sky god, hence being the god of something, but his mother was just a mortal woman.

 

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.” Chrom stretched out a measure of the liquid, hand moving up and then stopping abruptly before moving back down to thin it down. At the desired length, his sword, the Falchion, hummed, metal ringing as he brought it to the edge and cut through, the rest of the mass of colors falling back down into the pool, the ribbon he sliced off floating gently in the air. It was a mass of mostly green and pink, faint speckling of yellows, whites, and light blues all around. “A good spring day for tomorrow.” He gently dropped it in a shallow bowl set atop a pedestal, the colors swirling around the marble as it slowly evaporated.

 

“Should have checked in with you more. I know you have Emm and Princess but…” Gaius trailed off, uncomfortable with the subject. And he called himself Chrom’s best friend.

 

“I didn’t tell anyone.” He loved his half-sisters dearly and they loved his mother to an extent, likely because she was the mother to their only brother, but they had their own lives and mothers to deal with, father excluded. None of them were particularly close to him, but then again he didn’t make any effort to get to know them and the siblings had long given up. “She’s even asked me to lessen my visits because of my work but I didn’t listen.”

 

“Good man.” Gaius thumped Chrom lightly across the back.

 

“I offered her ambrosia and she refused. Mother doesn’t even want to think about becoming immortal.” Chrom looked imploringly at Gaius. “What do I do when she’s gone? I love her.”

 

“Learn to be at peace with her decision?” Gaius shrugged, knowing his answer to be unhelpful but said it anyway. Chrom sighed balefully, unsure why he even asked a full god. Then again, demigods like him were few and far between. “Sorry, not helpful, but I’m not sure either.”

 

“I have to go. She doesn’t have a lot of time left.” Chrom smiled sadly, waving goodbye before disappearing to be with his mother. Gaius gave his back a two-fingered salute, leaving his friend’s office quietly before skulking off to look for his fiancée. All this serious talk made him sad, sad for his friend and his mother, sad because he couldn’t offer any support or a helping hand. Maybe she’d know what to do. He remembers her saying that she often met with the goddess of the underworld for work.

 

When Chrom arrived, his mother had some company, a childhood friend and her daughter, who blushed at the sight of him. Not many knew Sofia’s son was in charge of the seasons and the weather, it was to him they prayed for an agreeable day. They just knew he worked elsewhere, necessitating a move, but visited as often as he could, sweet boy. “Ah, I see you have guests. Should I perhaps come back later?”

 

“We were just about to leave.” The other woman stood up, smoothing away the wrinkles of her skirt. She beckoned for her daughter to follow, cheeks dusted red. “Agatha. This is my daughter Daphne.” Chrom nodded slowly, eyes warily reading the plans that seemed to be whirling in her head.

 

“Hello.” Daphne shyly waved, her voice clear but soft.

 

“We’ll leave you two alone. We’ll bring over some dinner. Daphne is wonderful at cooking.” The pair excused themselves, Chrom left to wonder what he could say to refuse the food. He planned to stay the evening but didn’t normally eat what mortals did. He indulged at times, but with the way Agatha and Daphne were acting, it seemed like they were going to try to rope him into marriage.

 

“Forgive them. Agatha has been trying to find a husband for her daughter and ever since she found out I have a son…” Sofia trailed off, smiling wistfully as she took in the form of her only child.

 

“It’s fine. I’ve just never been accosted.” Chrom strode over to the bed, fluffing the pillows slightly as he pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. Sitting down by her bed, he held her hand gently. “How are you?”

 

“Tired. Grateful.” Sofia placed a gentle hand on Chrom’s cheek. “You?”

 

“I’ve been a bit busy with the passing of the seasons but it’s been settling down.” It was always tough to wrangle out the right mix of colors and weather patterns as the seasons changed, the liquid in the pool being particularly violent during those times. “Also trying to avoid being pulled into Gaius’ latest scheme.”

 

“Your thieving friend?” Sofia laughed slightly but doubled over as it turned into a cough, her shoulders heaving. Chrom shifted, alarmed, but a raised hand from his mother stopped him from moving. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Chrom brushed her hair behind her ear, as if the simple act would satisfy his need to take care of his mother.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want the ambrosia? With your talents and knowledge, I’m sure you could easily rule over something.” His mother loved books, her walls filled from top to bottom with bound pages. Some of them he gifted her, but most were there ever since he was born. Her favorite one was on her lap, pages well worn from constant turning. “I could call Lissa to heal you of your malady and bring the ambrosia to you.” It wasn’t very often that a mortal was turned into a deity but he had received permission for her. She had birthed one of the most powerful gods in existence. Despite his half human heritage, he was bestowed more power than even his half-sisters, both born of a goddess, different but deities nevertheless. He became a central god, the Falchion picky as to who its wielder would be.

 

“I don’t want immortality, Chrom,” Sofia said firmly, flipping their hands so her smaller, frail hand was carrying his. “Remember what I taught you about life?” He nodded slowly, the words faint in his heart, but present just the same. “Life is beautiful precisely because time is limited. You see things very differently than I, dear son, because my lifetime is just a blink of an eye to you, but it makes me appreciate everything life has given me.”

 

“But you’re  _ too young _ .” Chrom pleaded, eyes misting. Much of what fascinated mortals was mundane to him, which was why he watched them from a distance with amusement. He mingled among them from time to time, but never fully understood.

 

“We all have our lots in life. This is mine.” Sofia felt her heart hurt, trying to hide the pain with a smile. “You must learn to accept you can’t change everything in the world.”

 

“But I can change  _ this _ .”

 

“No, you know you can’t.” She smiled sadly, almost too weak to squeeze his hand. “I love the life I led, surrounded by my books, blessed with a wonderful but stubborn son.” Chrom smiled sadly, disappointed he couldn’t convince his mother to take the elixir but not surprised. He got his hardheadedness from her. “I love you, you know that?”

 

“Yes Mother, I know. I love you too.”

 

“Get married and have children okay? Tell them their grandmother loves them, even though she’s never met them.” Her voice was growing softer, eyelids drooping slowly.

 

“Mother!?” Chrom’s eyes widened, his mother’s hold on his hand slacking. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. He couldn’t lose her, not now!

 

“Chrom, I love you, heart of my heart.” Summoning the last of her strength, Sofia defied all odds and pressed a last warm, tender kiss on Chrom’s cheek. He closed her eyes, pressing a kiss against each cheek as he whispered goodbye, cradling his mother and taking her favorite book, carrying her to the skies. She refused immortality, appreciative of her lot in life, but as his mother, was entitled to a grave honoring the few of their kind. She would be buried in the heavens and a tree planted in her honor, bearing the most delectable of fruit. He enchanted the house, locking the doors and freezing everything in place. He would come back, perhaps, and collect memorabilia from his childhood home. Now, all he wanted to do was grieve for his lost mother, the only one who took care of him before his father yanked him to the heavens to work as a god.

 

Gaius had been out in the fields, having just narrowly avoided his fiancée after swiping some cakes from the kitchens. He was just about to offer the remainder of his loot to Chrom when he saw him carrying a slight body, his friend standing straight but not for much longer. He offered to help bury her body, Chrom thankful for the gesture. After the work had been finished, planting seeds into the ground just above her body, Chrom finally broke down, tears flowing unbidden as he mourned for his mother.

 

“I heard from Cordelia you can visit the souls of the dead in the underworld. Pray that you reach her before she receives judgment from the goddess.” Chrom gazed at his friend, unmindful of how terrible he looked as he cried.

 

“Show me where to go,” he croaked, clutching at the hem of Gaius’ cloak.

 

**—x—**

 

Stella’s hand twitched as she ran her fingers against the spine of the grimoire. There weren’t supposed to be any more dead today, but her bones could feel the arrival of another. She wondered why they didn’t arrive all at the same time today. Though they all died at different times, they were all summoned before her at once, groups picked up at various points along the River Styx, the ferryman a stodgy creature who circled around until it was certain that all souls for the day were collected. It was only then were they brought before her, fearful of the judgment that lay before them. This one soul, however, was different. Stella’s clothes transformed back into the gown, hair gathered into a delicate bun as her gold-wrought wreath wove itself into her white blonde locks.

 

“Hello. It seems I was scheduled to meet you today.” A beautiful woman with the richest blue hair appeared in front of her. Stella’s heart squeezed painfully. The soul radiated the feelings of a mother and Stella had always the want of one, her own dying after her birth. “Strange, I thought I would meet a god, not a goddess. No matter, I’m glad to meet you.” Realization slowly dawned on Stella, wondering why the soul before her was conversing with her. Most were stunned into silence, and those she had to question before she could judge properly were often magicked into speaking, their fear crippling their voices.

 

“You… who are you? What are you?” Stella rasped, climbing down from her pedestal, walking forward to stand in front of the woman. It wasn’t protocol, but it didn’t matter. The recently passed mortal in front of her was conversing with a goddess as if it were nothing.

 

“Sofia,” she offered simply, a peaceful smile on her face. “A simple woman with a love for books.” Stella’s ears perked up at the last word, deciding she might delay judgment if only to talk about the books of the surface, if they were different from the books of the underworld and of the heavens. “You are?” The goddess smiled, amused at Sofia’s daring to ask her name, but she felt rather indulgent.

 

“Stella.” She paused, taking in the strange sight of a serene soul in front of her. “You aren’t afraid of me?”

 

“I’ve had time to grapple with the fact that I was dying. My stubborn son hasn’t. I suspect he might be arriving here soon. I can feel it in my bones.” Sofia paused, laughing at her last statement. “Do souls have bones?”

 

“No, I don’t think so.” A wry smile twitched at Stella’s lips. “Did your son die as well? I’m sorry to hear that.” It was a stiff attempt at condolences.

 

“He’s not dead. I doubt he’ll ever die.” Sofia brushed away a stray lock of hair delicately. “My son is no ordinary man. Well, I don’t think he’s even a man. He’s a god, or demigod because of me.” Stella’s eyes widened. That was why Sofia was perfectly comfortable in her presence. She had never met another deity’s mortal parent, most of them having passed on when her father was the god of the underworld. Heavy doors pushed open as footfalls grew louder and louder. “Ah, I believe he’s arrived.”

 

“Mother!” The young god strode forward, barely managing to stop before he realized that there was another in the room. “Ah. My apologies for trespassing in your domain.”

 

“It’s alright. You didn’t come here with a sword in hand, trying to claim justice for the dead.” Stella smiled wryly, gaze resting on the sword at Chrom’s hip before meeting his eyes. “Though I suppose you came ready for that.” Chrom blushed lightly, pushing his sword belt back just a touch. “What is your business here? Come to claim the soul of your mother? The minute she passed into my world, I’ve had rights to her soul.”

 

“No, I… I just…” Chrom shifted uneasily in his place. Why did he rush down to the underworld? 

 

“Reckless son you have here, Sofia.” 

 

“Just one last time,” he begged, hand resting on his mother’s shoulder as he held Stella’s gaze. “One more conversation then I’ll let her go.” Was that a slight hitch in his voice? She assessed the god before her, then his mother. “I wasn’t ready.”

 

“Most people are not,” Stella replied evenly. His face fell at her words and his expression actually hurt her. Who was this god and why did she feel so drawn to him? She sighed, fingers rubbing her temples as she felt a headache coming on. Most of the loved ones of the dead simply left their mourning to the surface, although most could not reach the underworld even if they dared. There were a few who braved it, like that musician who wanted his wife back but did not have enough restraint to keep his eyes forward until they reached the surface, the soul fading back into the underworld the minute he turned around.

 

“Chrom, let me go. You’ve troubled Stella enough as it is.” Sofia lightly scolded her son, patting him on the arm as she shifted. “I am at peace and ready to go to where she deems fit.” Chrom opened his mouth to protest but was quickly shot down with a stern gaze from the smaller woman. At the sight, Stella couldn’t help but laugh, peals of genuine delight echoing in the somber room.

 

“I’ll leave you two for a few moments. I have something to attend to and it doesn’t seem I have to keep an eye on a mischievous soul trying to escape.” Stella turned around gracefully, the back of the gown dipping so lowly that the cloth came to rest just barely above the base of her spine, a delicate chain of jewels strung just below her shoulder blades, connecting the thick but soft straps. “I’ll be back soon.” Truthfully she could have easily cast judgment upon Sofia, but seeing her interactions with her son made a warm, pleasant feeling thrum through her.

 

“Thank you,” Chrom all but whispered, a pleasant smile gracing Stella’s face.

 

“Don’t make me regret it.”

 

When Stella came back, Chrom was less resistant to his mother facing judgment. Sofia assured him she was more than prepared, as she had insisted from the beginning. Chrom gave one last kiss to the cheek and embrace to his mother before stepping aside, eyes misty as he listened to Stella pass judgment. The blonde woman gently took Sofia’s hand, the free one opening a portal to a lush green field.

 

“I’ve sent word to Olivia. She’ll meet you at the gates and heal you of any regrets before you step into Elysium,” Stella instructed. She squeezed Sofia’s hand before letting go, moving aside.

 

“I was a woman of action, often taking charge so as not to have any regrets,” Sofia smiled ruefully before glancing at Chrom. “Though perhaps my greatest regret is not to see Chrom married with his own family.” The god blushed. Stella laughed and pressed a kiss on both of Sofia’s cheeks.

 

“Rest now, you deserve it.”

 

With one last nod, Sofia passed through the portal, the lines and fatigue falling away from her face as she moved on.

 

“Well then, would you like to see a little bit of the underworld while you’re here?” Stella turned to face her remaining companion, hair falling down in waves as her clothes transformed back into her simpler garb, offering a hand. It was only now Chrom finally took the time to notice the goddess.

 

“S-sure.” Chrom struggled to fight down a blush starting to creep on his cheeks, taking her smooth hand in his sword-calloused one. It was only now Chrom realized how pretty she was, pale skin and doe eyes, slightly upturned nose and faint freckles dusting her cheeks.

 

**—x—**

 

“Thank you.” Chrom pressed his weight down, palms digging into the slightly jagged outcrop of rock they were seated on. His eyes watched in amazement as he took in the sight of the five different rivers, calm in some places, thrashing in others. Stella left them no more than a few minutes, but enough time for him to say goodbye to his mother and to thank her for everything she had done for him. When the goddess of the underworld came back, his heart ached but knew he couldn’t delay any longer.

 

“No problem. You’re the first god to have visited in a long time, outside of Cordelia, but she’s only ever here on business.” Stella resisted the urge to lean against his shoulder, the breeze cool and comforting and making her unusually sleepy. “Well, maybe not to visit me but still, a visit.” 

 

“I apologize for rushing in like that.” Chrom shifted his hand slightly, fingers grazing against hers unintentionally. At the sudden warmth, he pulled back but only just. What little he knew of Stella, he liked. She wasn’t a terrifying goddess at all. In fact, she was lovely with her soft gaze and warm smile, frightening when she had to be but she didn’t need to be around him.

 

“I understand. Perhaps I would have rushed down like you too, if our places were switched.” Chrom turned to look at his companion, her gaze wistful as she continued to take in the sight of her domain. “My mother died giving birth to me, my father just cast her soul aside the minute I was pulled out of her.”

 

“She was human too?” Chrom placed his hand on top of hers, giving a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

 

“Mm.” Stella didn’t pull her hand back, appreciative of the gesture. “I don’t know much about her, only that she was probably lucky not to have experienced more of the ruthlessness of my father than she already did. Terrible thing to say, isn’t it? Being glad that my mother is dead.”

 

“What do you mean?” Chrom’s face twisted in confusion. The little he heard about the underworld was often marred by his father’s biases against it. Not too many of the other deities dealt with those under Stella’s rule because of whispers of their inhumanity, how they delighted in death. Yes, there were war gods, their domain contributing much to death, but it wasn’t death specifically that they revelled in, but a show of strength and dominion over others. People dying was an unfortunate consequence.

 

“Souls go to one of two places, depending on how they lived their life. The bad ones go to eternal damnation for punishment, the good ones go into Elysium, where Sofia is, into paradise and rest,” Stella explained, gaze shifting towards calm plains off to one side. “When someone dies, their name appears on a page in the Hadean Grimoire, most pages marked for a particular destination. Most times, judgment is just a formality, the last gate before true afterlife. Sometimes though, a soul with a morally ambiguous life comes along, their name posted in a blank page. Those souls I have to judge more carefully, coaxing out their hidden reasons for terrible deeds or their inaction, before I send them to damnation or paradise.”

 

“Sounds tiring.” Chrom relaxed his grip but kept his hand atop, thumb rubbing idly against the back of her hand. His gaze turned back to the rivers before them.

 

“It is. The work itself is not particularly difficult, the powers I have seem to just let me  _ know _ but the upkeep of this place can be exhausting. Still, a far better way to do things than my father’s.” Stella paused, sucking in air as though to steel herself. She distantly wondered why she was intimating much of her story to a god she barely knew, but the warmth in his eyes and his devotion to his mother inexplicably endeared him to her. “He simply banished everyone to damnation without a care in the world. The other lesser deities of the underworld couldn’t do anything, no matter how unfair his judgments were. He delighted in hearing the tormented screams of the dead.”

 

“So you overthrew him?”

 

“Ungrateful bitch he called me.” Her heart squeezed painfully as she remembered her father, blood either caked or dripping everywhere as he lay flat against the floor, inky darkness shaped into a sword pressed sharply against his neck.

 

“You fought for what you thought was right, that there were mortals in the world who did good and deserved their just reward for doing so, not shucked into the fires of hell.” Stella’s eyes widened, amazed that Chrom didn’t seem the least perturbed that she had rebelled against a god, her own father. She seized power from the former god and had taken it as her own, becoming the new ruler of the underworld in his stead. “What happened to your father after?”

 

“Dead,” she said simply. “It’s not impossible to kill a god, difficult but not impossible. Imprisonment was one thing but I couldn’t risk him gaining back his powers and taking back this mantle. He used to live in the heavens until he got cast down. Apparently he used to be a war god but revelled too much in death and destruction, so the other deities bound him here and made him master of what he loved. As long he was out of sight, they didn’t care much for what he did to human souls.”

 

“Oh. You didn’t need to share so much. Gods we may be but we’re still strangers.” Chrom boldly took her hand in his, intertwining fingers together as he let his warmth mingle with hers. His mind screamed at him for daring to but something else just pulled at him to show signs of comfort and affection. “But thank you for trusting me enough to speak.”

 

“Thank you for listening.” She turned to face him, plush lips twitched up in gratitude. “In case you didn’t notice, not like I have much company here.” Chrom shifted his gaze back to her, barely registering his audible gulp. He wanted to kiss her right then and there.

 

“If I may be so forward.” Chrom whispered as he moved to crouch in front of her, their eyes level. Stella barely had time to ask what he meant before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. She fought down the blush rising to her cheeks as Chrom pulled away. “Thank you. I know you let me talk to my mother as a favor.” Dusting off the dirt as he stood up, Chrom smiled. “Shall we have tea next time?” Stella’s heart skipped a beat.

 

“Next time?” She squeaked softly, hand brushing against her forehead to push away hair. The skin where his lips touched was still warm.

 

“Yes, next time. Unless this is the last time we meet?” The thought that they might never meet again crushed him. They ruled over very different phases of time, him over life and her over death, but he couldn’t help but seek her out again and again.

 

“Sure, I’ll send you a message.” A small smile played on Stella’s lips as she looked up, a warmth she had never felt before spreading slowly. Who was this god in front of her and why did he make her feel something strange?

 

“Would you be so kind as to bring some fruit for next time? I’m interested to find out how they taste.” Chrom gestured towards the cluster of trees behind them, fruits breaking up the green of the leaves.

 

“I can’t. If you eat our food, you’ll be bound to the underworld. I don’t think the others will take too kindly to that.” She smiled sadly, chewing softly on her lower lip.

 

“But you can leave?” Chrom sounded hopeful. Is that why they’ve never met before, because she was trapped below the earth?

 

“Yes, I am its master. I can leave for longer than most of its denizens but I’ll still have to go back. I grow weak if I’m away for too long.”

 

“Can’t have that now can we,” he murmured quietly, pulling her flush against his chest. Chrom couldn’t resist anymore, a strange magnetic force simmering between them. His eyes focused on her lips, ruby red and swollen. Entranced, he angled his head lower and kissed her: soft, tender, and sweet. Stella yelped in surprise but quickly and easily melted into his embrace. They were breathless when they broke the kiss. “Sorry,” he mumbled half-heartedly, not meaning the apology.

 

“Chrom…?” She looked up, confused, but didn’t pull away.

 

“I’ve seen humans do that, in greeting or to say goodbye.” His eyes were half-lidded, vaguely wondering why he kissed her but firmly deciding he didn’t regret it.

 

“Oh?” Her voice sounded naive and sweet, accepting his explanation but somehow still suspicious. Stella didn’t know much in the matters of love and desire but she could still feel some heat behind his kiss.

 

“Sometimes.” Chrom shrugged, putting a hand on top of Stella’s head before letting it slip down and rest on her cheek. He hoped that she would never show that expression to anyone else but him. He let his thumb run smoothly above her cheekbone, pulling a small smile out of her. “I have to go.”

 

“Okay.” Her voice was whisper soft but he could hear her disappointment.

 

“I’ll take you to the surface and show you around next time. I promise.” He pressed another kiss against her forehead before vanishing, Stella’s knees buckling as she dropped to the ground, her emotions a tempest inside of her.

 

“What was that…” she whispered, fingers resting on her still red lips, eyes hazily focused on where Chrom had been standing.

 

**—x—**

 

She craned her neck, listening for any sign that a sword swinging cleanly through the air would stop. It was early morning and Lon’qu was often in the courtyard, religiously training. Olivia was likely drawing him a bath. Stella was timing her escape, when Lon’qu ducked back into his quarters and Olivia helped him set aside his things.  _ ‘Though why I’m trying to escape like a little girl, who knows. I mean, they can’t even get mad at me. Or can they?’ _ Stella scrunched her face, her thoughts running wild with reactions of her friends. Guardians. Underlings. She had to settle the matter as to what to call them. If anything,  _ she _ was the one who got mad when something went awry because  _ she _ was the one who had to pick up the mess.

 

Soon enough, Lon’qu sheathed his sword and walked away, boots falling heavily against the stony path. When the footfalls were distant enough, Stella opened a portal and quickly left, cloak wisping behind her. She left a note somewhere for them to find, a short message along the lines of sorry, got bored, wanted to go up and explore written neatly on it. She could have easily just teleported to the rocky outcrop where she and Chrom had talked but she wanted to make a clean getaway. There were times when Lon’qu or Olivia dragged her to fix something but Lon’qu’s morning soak was the one time they never looked for her.

 

“Ready?” Chrom pushed himself off of his seat, smoothing his pants. He offered his hand, Stella graciously accepting.

 

“What are we going to do?” She distantly heard a strange and loud noise, a high-pitched squeak mixed with a rumbling growl.  _ ‘I’ll deal with their outrage later. They must’ve seen the note before Lon’qu settled in the water.’ _

 

“Let’s just go with the flow.” He smiled, free hand tucking her hair behind her ear before he turned around. Chrom tore through space and gently pulled her through, Stella’s grip tightening slightly as she followed. The sun shone gently, warm on her face, a cool breeze making her cloak billow behind her. Stella squinted, eyes unused to such brightness, slowly adjusting as shapeless colors were finally taking form.

 

“It’s beautiful up here,” she whispered breathlessly, unaware that her free hand clutched Chrom’s arm, her held hand still loosely entwined with his. She opened her eyes wide, now used to the sunlight, taking in the sights before her. “I wonder why I never ventured out,” she mused, her heart bursting with wonder. “There’s so much more to see here.”

 

“Shall we go?” When was the last time he felt this relaxed, that just sitting in her company would make his day.

 

The rest of the day was spent dawdling around, looking at trinkets that merchants were offering, filling up a basket that Stella didn’t notice Chrom had with food of all kinds. She was like a little girl, flitting around from point to point, taking in everything with a sense of wonder and amazement at seeing these things for the first time. Chrom good naturedly followed her behind, thankful there was no one who recognized him. Children danced around them happily, the younger ones innocently asking if they were married, their parents pulling them away and apologizing but with a knowing smile on their faces. It was the first time that children approached Stella and clung to her, the first time someone so  _ alive and happy _ embraced her because they thought she was pretty. They weren't scared of her. They  _ rejoiced  _ around her.

 

The sun was starting to set when they found themselves propped up against a tree, Chrom lazily draping his arm across her shoulders, Stella pressing herself against his side, head positioned comfortably on the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” she murmured, her left hand playing with Chrom’s free one, finger tips dancing lightly across his palm. Chrom suppressed a shiver, her breath warm against his skin. He turned slightly, pressing a kiss on her hairline before pushing his forehead lightly on her hair. She smelled sweet and intoxicating.

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

“Very much so.” Her fingers curled against his palm before opening them again, nails grazing his skin slowly. She idly continued scratching his skin, amused as she watched his fingers shiver slightly, a sudden sharp intake of breath betraying him. “Ticklish?” She pulled away slightly, turning her head to face him.

 

“Shut up,” he mumbled half-sleepily, flipping his hand to tangle their fingers.

 

“Such harsh language,” her tone droll as her eyes twinkled. Sighing, she glanced back at the horizon, sun dipping lowly. “I have to go.”

 

“No you don’t.” His lax hold on her tightened, not possessively but enough to tell her he didn’t want this to end.

 

“Yes I do.” Stella pulled away. Chrom didn’t resist. Standing over him, she smiled shyly, pushing back a strand of hair behind her ear. “Today was lovely.” Chrom grunted, heels digging into the ground as he pushed himself straighter against the tree. Grabbing her hand, he tugged Stella back down, the goddess finding herself straddling him as her cheeks reddened.

 

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, hands pressing against the small of her back as he kissed her. Chrom felt her smile against his lips.

 

“There’s always another day. This doesn’t have to be the last.” She kissed him this time, lingering before pulling away.

 

“Have you ever seen the ocean?” He kissed her again.

 

“No.” She leaned into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

 

“You’ll love it.” This kiss this time was more heated, Chrom lightly biting her lower lip as she groaned into him.

 

“Bye Chrom,” she whispered, pulling herself away, palms digging into his chest. Her hair was mussed, chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath. “Whisk me away to the ocean next time.” Chrom watched Stella disappear back to the underworld, no doubt a long night of work ahead of her with today’s delay. The last thing he remembered was her swollen, ruby red lips upturned into a satisfied smile.

  
_ ‘I think I’m falling in love with her.’  _ His cheeks reddened slowly as he let that thought sink in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read something based on the story of Hades and Persephone and ideas started whirling with making f!Avatar as Hades and Chrom as Persephone. As I’ve said in the beginning, this isn’t a retelling. Had to throw in mentions of other myths there, the Trojan War and of Orpheus. I also got sucked into world building. This was just supposed to be a one-shot but noooo, it’s now a multi-chap, and have enough basis to write, probably, short fluffy one-shots or more dramatic ones featuring the other characters.
> 
> Hope everyone likes this! A kudos and/or constructive criticism is v. v. welcome and I hope you leave some, so I know if I’m doing a good job or something O:


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making it a personal challenge to mention at least one or two other Greek myths! Thanks to Vulpixune for beta-reading this chapter :o

“Chrom?” Gaius poked his head into Chrom’s work space. It was getting harder and harder to find the blue-haired god. Chrom was responsible, his work never left unattended, but he was never found in his usual haunts. Not that Gaius was particularly concerned for his friend’s well-being, Chrom was a powerful enough god to take down most anything thrown his way, but still. It was unusual for no one to know of the blue haired god’s whereabouts. “Wonder where that bastard went.”

 

At that thought, Chrom barely had enough time to turn his head away and sneeze. Stella looked up at him with concern, wriggling in between his arms and pushing on the ground with her heel, the parts of her long dress stuck on her skin hiking up slightly. “You okay?” He nodded, sighing as he buried his face in her hair, reveling in the warmth of her body. They were somewhere near Elysium, not inside because she’d never let him and it wasn’t his place to be there, but near enough his mother to be a comforting thought. He missed her terribly, but Stella indulged his selfish requests to be near Sofia’s soul. It was soothing to be near the two most important women in his life.

 

“Have you ever heard of the belief that if you suddenly sneeze, someone must be talking behind your back?” Chrom lifted his head slightly, resting his chin on the crook of her neck as he gazed at the fields beyond. He couldn’t see anything except grass billowing, but he was sure all who were there were happy.

 

“What a strange saying.” Stella idly picked up Chrom’s white ragged cloak, attached to the one pauldron he had on his left shoulder, secured by a looping chain and buckle to his white leather baldric on the right. “Speaking of strange things, why do you have only one sleeve?” She rubbed the cloth between her fingers, surprisingly soft and well cared for, despite the tattered state of its hem.

 

“Fashion?” Chrom laughed, a low rumble in his chest reverberating between them. He was a strange one.

 

“I guess, but terribly impractical if you ask me,” Stella murmured, eyes drifting closed as she leaned even further against him, dropping his cloak.

 

“Tired?” He lifted her slightly, tucking her hair off to one side. He ran his fingers through her white blonde hair, gently combing through the tangles. She grumbled but was content in the rhythmic motion of his combing, fingertips gently massaging her scalp before releasing and brushing her hair.

 

“Remember the war with the Trojans?” She paused, waiting for his reply. Stella half-wondered if Chrom took a side, if animosity ran high as well in the heavens during that war. He mumbled something Stella didn’t quite catch but enough to signal that he knew.  “The war is done but they’re having some trouble coming back home, angering the sea god now. Many are still dying from his wrath.”

 

“Oh.” Chrom often didn’t say much about the dead, knowing it rankled her as much as it did her friend Olivia about people being sent to their deaths earlier than otherwise expected. Stella had told him about the Fates, the three sisters who watched over the threads of life of mortals, how nothing was set in stone and everything was merely an eventuality, a possibility. Most things were out of their control, their lives seemingly already predestined for them, but there were some who realized they had a choice and managed to steer their lives away from what the sisters had foreseen. Mortals like that delighted the sisters, but they were few and far between.

 

“It was in the realm of future possibilities that they die now,” Stella mused, eyes half-opening as she gazed at Elysium. She could see the souls Chrom could not, each and every one of them happy and free from all distress and anxiety. “But somewhere along the way, something happens or someone meddles that invariably changes the course of their lives. Like that goddess of discord who started all this. She just had to goad three other goddesses and that stupid, self-absorbed Paris just had to pick someone else’s wife as his prize.” Her tone was bitter and her eyes were flashing, Chrom instinctively pressing his hands atop her shoulders, thumbs pushing gently but firmly as he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

 

“Hey, remember when I said I’d take you to the ocean?” Chrom dropped his hands, wrapping them around her waist as he pulled her close.

 

“Here I was thinking you forgot about it.” She was thankful for his change in topic, right hand reaching up and patting Chrom lightly on his cheek before dropping them on his arm. Her fingers skimmed and slid over his arm before resting above his hand. Chrom barely managed to suppress a shiver, quickly finding out that whenever Stella’s nails grazed his skin, a strangely pleasant sensation travelled up and down his spine.

 

“I’d be remiss to invite you on a less than perfect day. My honor as the god of the weather and seasons would be on the line.” His tone was teasing but sincere. “Tomorrow will be perfect. Let’s go then.”

 

“I suppose so,” she murmured quietly. “Can we go at sunset? The last time I was out for too long I was red. Lon’qu was mortified.” She laughed, distantly remembering her friend running around frantically for a salve to soothe her slightly painful skin. “I distinctly remember him swearing curses at you while slathering some balm over my nose and shoulders.”

 

“I don’t think Lon’qu likes me.” Chrom freed one arm, tracing idly on the new freckles on the curve of her right shoulder. Stella reddened easily, new but faint freckles cropping up every time she spent more than a few hours under the sun.

 

“Lon’qu doesn’t like anyone, save Olivia and me.” Stella laughed, reassuring Chrom that the swordsman being inhospitable to most everyone was the norm rather than the exception.

 

“If you say so.” Chrom frowned, pressing a kiss on her shoulder where his fingers once were. An ominous thunderclap sounded as though displeased. Chrom ignored it, tracing idle patterns along her right shoulder girdle with feather light kisses. Stella melted against him, her hands curling appreciatively around the lone arm around her waist. Thunder clapped again, somehow louder and more menacing than the last. Stella felt him growl against her skin.

 

“Something’s wrong.” Stella pulled away, kneeling in the open space in between his legs as she pressed her forehead against his. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” She pulled away, settling on her calves as she gently brushed his cheek with her thumb. Chrom leaned into her palm, eyes closing.

 

“Being summoned,” he mumbled lamely, muttering something about stupid and impatient fathers under his breath.

 

“Okay.” Stella never argued or complained like Chrom did when they had to separate, an overwhelming sense of duty preventing her from doing so. Still, it didn’t mean she felt nothing when they had to part. Her heart ached painfully every time, her feelings often hidden by a bright and sincere smile as she waited for the next time they’d meet.

 

“I’ll pick you up, okay?” He always picked her up whenever they were going somewhere new. Thunder boomed for a third time, Chrom frowning deeply at the impatience.

 

“Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Stella smiled, pressing kisses on the space in between his eyebrows until it flattened, tension melting away after each one. “Don’t frown so much. You’ll get wrinkles.” Chrom laughed, butterflies fluttering in Stella’s stomach, the sound music to her ears.

 

“Bring towels.” Chrom dipped his head slightly, one hand pressing against her nape to bring her closer as he brought her in for a kiss, the other cupping her cheek.

 

“Mmkay,” she whispered breathlessly, eyes half lidded and hair falling everywhere. Chrom pressed one last kiss to her forehead. Before she let him pull away, Stella pressed her lips against his ear, feeling daring with her words. She sighed about how cold she was going to be that night, with no warm body to sleep against. Chrom already started disappearing as she pulled away, his cheeks stained red as his eyes widened, trying to process what she just said. When he was finally gone, Stella tumbled forward slightly, managing to catch herself as her palms pressed against the tree. It was still warm. Her own cheeks were red at how forward she was, but the warmth pooling in her belly was strangely comfortable.

 

Gaius bolted from his seat on the bench when he saw Chrom arrive. Finally! His father had been at his heels about the whereabouts of his only son, something about the pool of colors needing to be refilled at that moment. One of the more mischievous children had dipped into it and splattered it everywhere, the grass just outside Chrom’s office stained a myriad of colors. “Where have you been? Your father has been looking everywhe—” Gaius paused, eyes widening with amusement when he noticed the rather scarlet hue his face was. “There’s a girl isn’t there?” Gaius waggled his eyebrows, slinging an arm around Chrom’s shoulders. The thief god could feel the heat on his friend’s face.

 

“Shut up,” Chrom muttered angrily, trying to fight down the intense blush on his face before having to face his father. Why was Gaius always there to witness his embarrassment? Chrom scowled, still desperately trying to tame the color on his face but Stella’s words and ruby red lips were making that task so very difficult. What he wouldn’t give to just skip an audience with the sky god and bury his face into a pillow.

 

**—x—**

 

Stella scowled, eyeing the bag Lon’qu forced her to bring, nearly tearing apart at the seams. Just how many towels did the man think was necessary!? She knew her skin was sensitive and normally burned lightly, but this was precisely why she asked Chrom if they could start after sunset. Just when she thought that she was free from Lon’qu’s prying eyes, he swiftly managed to toss the  _ mountain of towels _ right after her, before the portal closed. Now, here she was stuck with towels she would feel guilty leaving behind somewhere. Lon’qu just had to stuff in her  _ nice _ towels.

 

“What’s… all that?” Chrom gestured vaguely to the bag Stella had lugged behind her.

 

“Towels,” she muttered bitterly.

 

“I can see that. But why so many?”

 

“Ask Lon’qu. I’m going to kill him when we get back.” Stella grumbled, straightening her aching back when she stood beside him.

 

“Be… gentle?” Chrom bent down and grasped the straps in with his left hand. “Oof this is heavy.” Stella whined some more, annoyed that she was being treated like a child. “Now now. I’ve already set up a nice spot for us. Let’s go before we miss the sunset.” Chrom laughed, amused at Stella’s reactions, pulling her into him with his right arm as the bag of towels strained the muscles of his left side. Mumbling, Stella clung to Chrom’s shirt and pressed her face against his chest, a gust of wind passing by them as they moved from the underworld to a quiet, secluded coast. “We’re here.” 

 

Stella turned her head, eyes widening as she drank in the sight of the sun dipping into the horizon. It was a beautiful mix of oranges, pinks, and purples, broken by the faint silhouettes of clouds. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, fingers curling as she laid her head absently against Chrom’s chest. Her hair and cloak billowed behind her, her face serene as she eyes moved from left to right.

 

“Come, there’s a small hut nearby. Our dinner is there,” he whispered, gently shepherding Stella to the bamboo structure. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the horizon, enamored by the beauty of the sunset. He deposited her mountain of towels by the entrance, muscles crying with relief once their burden was set aside.

 

“Have you been here before?” Stella climbed inside the hut, shifting her dress slightly as she sat down primly. She cast aside her cloak, tossing it on the bench across, then twisted her body to face the water, still enraptured by the warmth of the sky, eyes gazing downwards as she noticed the sea mirroring the firmament. The cool breeze made her bare shoulders shiver, not an unpleasant feeling.

 

“A few times. I stumbled upon this beach. Used to be really popular but was abandoned when the nearby villagers had to move out after a terrible plague ruined their farmlands.” Chrom opened the basket, arranging fruits, bread, and cheese, glasses and a bottle of wine remaining in the wicker bin. “Would you care for a drink?”

 

Stella nodded absently, fingers moving left and right on the bamboo she was leaning against. She shivered when she felt Chrom’s fingers touch her nape, sliding down against her spine slowly, resting briefly on the small of her back before settling on her waist. With a slight tug, he pulled her close and guided her eyes to the small feast before them.

 

Dinner was finished quickly, napkins and glasses put back quickly and basket shoved to the far end of the hut, hopefully not forgotten after their date. They chatted idly after, mostly Stella asking about the different seasons. Spring and autumn interested her most, with all the flowers and vegetation bursting forth once winter thawed and leaves falling prettily in warm, robust colors. The goddess paid rapt attention to Chrom, her eyes hazily focused on his profile, the mixed light from the setting sun and rising moon giving him an enchanted glow. She found she was paying less and less attention to his words and more and more attention to his mouth and she wanted it on hers. Her throat ran dry and her lips suddenly felt chapped, the warm coil in her stomach suddenly, but slowly, tightening. “Hey Chrom?”

 

He managed to turn his head around in time for Stella to crash her lips against his, her hands cupping his cheeks fleetingly before moving into his hair, fingers pushing against his nape to push his face closer to hers. Blue eyes widened as his heart thumped against his ribcage heavily, Chrom’s hands limp against his sides. A gentle but insistent bite to his lower lip brought him back, his fingers moving down the sides of her thighs and back up, dragging the cool silk of her dress up. With most of the skirt hiked up and pooling at her waist, Chrom broke free but just barely, enough to see her darkened, half-lidded eyes never leave his as Stella stood, towering over him briefly before straddling his waist.

 

“Stella…” Chrom mumbled as she pushed aside his collar, teeth sinking in gently by his pulse point. Her hair fell like waterfalls, shielding her face as she bit then sucked and soothed, redness blooming under her ministrations. Chrom shut his eyes, fingers gliding maddeningly slowly up and down the dip in the center of her back, stopping just shy of the knot at the base of her neck before moving back down along her spine, goosebumps forming where his fingers touched. When his fingers were back by her nape, he toyed with the ends of the knot, tugging slightly as though testing the waters, undoing the ribbon fully when he felt her smile against his skin.

 

“Yes?” Stella and her clever hands had already unbuttoned his vest, pushing the offending cloth aside as she pressed herself against his chest. It was the only thing keeping the rest of her dress up, but he could feel her softness against him. “Want to stop?” She pressed open mouthed kisses on his bare skin leaving fire in its wake, the coolness of her tongue briefly offering relief before she moved to another spot. Stella latched on to the ripple of muscle on his side, just underneath his pectorals, the dips and inclines somehow smooth against her lips.

 

“Gods no,” he groaned as Stella continued to move, her top slipping between them with each motion until he could feel the cool skin of her breasts against his abdomen. Every time Stella bit then soothed, everything turned white for the briefest of moments. She slipped down from her seat on his lap, kneeling in front of him as she started to kiss the defined V of his obliques before they vanished into his pants. “C’mere.” Chrom pulled her back onto his lap, silk finally falling down and pooling at her waist before he latched onto her sweet, supple breast, tongue circling lazily around her slowly pebbling nipple, his free hand attending to the other one.

 

Stella moaned, head rolling back as her knees dug into his sides for support. Heat was growing in between her legs, the coil within her growing tighter and tighter. Pushing him back, Stella pressed her forehead against his chest as her hands moved down, tugging insistently at Chrom’s pants. Obediently, he lifted himself slightly off his seat, cotton moving just enough to free his strained length. Stella moved back slightly, just enough to stand over him as she gazed at his face through lust-ridden eyes, her long hair sticking to her sweat slicked skin. One hand held her dress against her waist, the other quickly finding her soaked underwear as she pushed it aside, perfectly shaped nails grazing against her swollen entrance as she shuddered, all while Chrom watched.

 

Chrom pulled her flush against him, Stella sliding slowly down as his lips kissed against whatever they could touch. She hovered above him, nervous as she bit her lower lip, as she settled herself just above his own arousal. Affection pulled at his heartstrings as he watched. His hands cupped her backside, supporting her as he leaned forward, breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “We can stop if you’re nervous.” Her eyes flashed with love as she pressed a kiss just below his ear, her hands resting atop his wrists as she steadied herself. “Stella, I’m serious.” He would deal with his erection later but Stella’s comfort and readiness was far more important than his own needs.

 

“So am I,” she whispered back, slowly lowering herself onto him. She bit her lip as she moaned, Chrom sucking in air as he forced back the curses he wanted to shout as stars started to flash behind his closed lids. When he was fully sheathed inside of her, Stella stilled, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck.

 

“Are you alright?” Chrom whispered, shaking her free. She winced slightly.

 

“Yeah, just give me a moment.”

 

“Okay.” He shifted their position, taking her lips to distract her from the pain. When all she could feel was him inside of her, Stella broke free and started to move, unsteadily at first but growing more and more confident the more she slid herself up and down on him.

 

Chrom gripped the edge of his seat, knuckles turning white as his head dipped back, both of them moving quickly from bitten back moans to their voices reaching the top of their lungs in a loud crescendo, uncaring of anyone who might hear, forgetting they were in an abandoned, formerly sleepy little coastal village. Their ends came much too soon, Stella first as she tightened around him like a vice, Chrom following soon after, his warmth bursting inside of her. Stella slumped against him, a film of sweat covering their bodies, both of them bonelessly tired, unable to move.

 

“What brought that about?” he croaked, first to stir. He stroked her back again, this time languid and affectionate.

 

“All that talk about seasons somehow made me want to feel  _ alive with you _ ,” she murmured softly, nails grazing slowly against his right side. “I normally deal with death, not so much life where I’m from.”

 

Chrom peeled her away from him, confusion settling in Stella’s face. With a soft hush, he tugged her dress back up, fingers resting on her nape as he attempted to tie the strap neatly. “We should get cleaned up.” Stella didn’t want to leave his warmth but reluctantly stood up anyway, feeling painfully empty, the rest of her dress falling primly above her ankles. “Go to the sea. I’ll follow.” Stella dutifully picked up a few towels from the bag, silently thankful that Lon’qu made her bring so many but sure this wasn’t what they were for.

 

Stella was already mostly submerged in the water when Chrom finally joined, her dress and sandals discarded on the beach by her towels. He smiled, watching her bathe at a distance, choosing to wash himself off some measures away. The salt in the ocean rubbed the stickiness away, his skin slightly raw at the rough edges of the salt. When he decided he was clean enough, Chrom walked back to the shore, feet sinking into the soft sand, slowly dressing up before he walked towards his companion.

 

“Are you fini—” Chrom’s voice died in his throat as his eyes widened, bugging out almost. Stella stared back in disbelief, a towel just barely covering her body, breasts threatening to spill out above the cloth.

 

“CHROM TURN AROUND!” Stella screamed, reddening all the way down to her neck. Chrom stood lamely.

 

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen befo—” he reasoned, hands up in the air as if in surrender. Though that was a lie. He barely had enough time to  _ really see her _ , what with his vision hazy as they moved quickly to join themselves together. Stella screamed again, crouching as one hand clutched the towel tightly to her body, the other picking up a clump of sand. “Stella, let’s be reasonable here!”

 

“TURN AROUND!” She flung clumps of sand at him, some shells flying, most missing him but one nicking the skin just by his lip. With a yelp, he reeled backwards, tumbling down and landing hard, the blow cushioned by the soft sand. Huffing, Stella quickly got dressed before towering over him with red hot fury. “Chrom!”

 

“You’re… beautiful?” Chrom said weakly, thumbing away the blood. It was a slight wound, skin just barely peeling but it likely nicked a capillary, hence the slight blood.

 

“Ugh!” Stella grumbled as she knelt beside him, brow furrowed as she pursed her lips. She reached out, fingers gingerly dabbing against the skin beside the superficial wound.

 

“It’s not like you didn’t show—” Chrom started.

 

“I wasn’t ready!” Stella cut him off, cheeks burning as she turned her gaze away, hands resting on her lap once satisfied she didn’t actually wound him much. Chrom laughed, amused at her sudden bashfulness after how forward she had just been, pulling her close as he buried his face in her slightly damp hair. Her usual sweet and intoxicating scent was mixed with salt.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his free hand finding hers easily as he interlaced their fingers together. Stella just blushed even more, her ears hot. “You’re the most beautiful wo—” She turned around and put a finger on his lips, doe eyes wide and glassy as she stared at his face.

 

“If I drop my finger, you won’t say anything about how I look anymore?” she asked, voice small, embarrassment evident in her tone. Chrom nodded, smiling against the pad of her finger. She eyed him suspiciously but dropped her hand just the same.

 

“I love you.” Her ears were pounding as she processed what he just said.

 

“What?” Shock and disbelief painted her face, her cheeks burning even more.

 

“I love you.” The words fell out of his mouth easily. All these months they had spent together, sneaking away from prying eyes, he found himself endlessly fascinated with her quiet strength and exuberance for life, despite what she ruled over. His heart broke every time they had to part and the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep was her ruby red lips tilted upwards, smiling just for him.

 

“I…” Stella paused, eyes searching for any sign that this was just a joke, a cruel, cruel one but a joke nevertheless. He had come into her life like a whirlwind and whisked her away to places she had never seen before. He was unafraid of her, even after seeing the terror she inspired in everyone, how people barely whispered her name for fear of inciting her wrath that death be upon them.

 

“I apologize for springing this onto you but I couldn’t help myself anymore,” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear and resting his hand on her cheek. Stella leaned into it, shaking her head as she smiled, her own hands gently holding his wrist.

 

“It’s fine.” She closed her eyes, savoring his gentle touch. “I love you.” She found herself quickly hoisted up by the waist, Chrom spinning her around as he laughed. She laughed as well, kicking her feet in the air, pushing her palms against his shoulders for leverage. “Put me down!”

 

“No!” Chrom swung her around, pressing her against him even tighter. He was far too happy to listen to anyone else.

 

**—x—**

 

Frederick pressed his lips thinly, brow furrowed as he paced the room. It was unusual for Chrom to be… relatively negligent in his duties. Yes, the weather and the seasons still pushed through as planned but only just. Not that Frederick had complete control over Chrom’s time but he was tasked to keep an eye out on the children of the sky god, though mostly the younger two. The god of welfare sighed again, thumb and forefinger dragging up and down against his chin.

 

“You’re worrying.” Cherche lifted her gaze from the blanket she was embroidering. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Chrom,” replied Frederick rather flatly, turning to face his wife. “I haven’t seen much of him lately, outside of his office and only sometimes in the dining hall. He’s also been waking up much later than usual.”

 

“Perhaps he’s just ill,” Cherche replied, picking up where she left off on her needlework, smiling as she gazed at the pattern. Her heart swelled, the cotton smooth in between her fingers. Nothing in her domain, of cloth, weaving, and tailoring, would ever be too fine for her still unborn child.  _ ‘A son. I can feel it in my bones.’ _

 

“Doubtful. He seems as refreshed as ever when I do see him,” Frederick countered.

 

“Then why don’t you ask Gaius?” Her rose colored eyes looked over the dragon she was embroidering. No doubt their son would be brave and strong just like the creature. Frederick groaned at her suggestion. “Come now, he would probably know.”

 

“Fine. I shall enquire.” Frederick finally stopped his pacing, right beside Cherche’s wicker chair. Leaning forward and stooping low, he pressed a tender kiss against her temple, smiling against her as Cherche leaned into his affection. “Call for me if you wish to go to bed.” His hand grazed the swell of her belly, a soft expression on his face.

 

“Go.” Cherche shooed her husband away, amused at his perturbed expression at having to deal with one of the craftiest gods in their realm.

 

It didn’t take long for Frederick to find the candy-obsessed trickster, sprawled on the grass with his head on his fiancée’s lap. The brunet god coughed, averting his gaze as he acknowledged them. “Gaius. Cordelia.”

 

“Oh. Frederick! What brings you here?” Cordelia blushed lightly, turning her head away, hands slipping from Gaius’ hair to his shoulders. She tapped at him, insisting he sit up but he responded by turning on his side, back facing Frederick. He couldn’t be bothered to talk to a stick-in-the-mud, not when he was happily lazing about with Cordelia. “I apologize for this.” Cordelia sighed tiredly, shoving her fiancé off her lap.

 

“Hey! What was that for?” Gaius complained, rubbing the back of his head as he stared at the red-haired goddess.

 

“Where is Chrom?” Frederick’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, foot tapping impatiently.

 

“How should I know, Freddy-bear? He’s been pretty coy with me these days.” Gaius grumbled, turning to face their unwanted companion, attempting to glare daggers at him. Not that Gaius thought he could win a staring match against Frederick, but he at least tried to make his displeasure known.

 

“Find out then. You’re one of his closest friends, much as I loathe to admit it.” Frederick could just imagine the sky god’s anger if he realized there were hardly any tabs on his only son. The god of welfare knew the sire of his three charges had a rather estranged relationship with Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa, much preferring to treat them as a superior would hired hands. Frederick only reported to their father about their general whereabouts and how well they were fulfilling their duty, nothing more and certainly nothing less. Though he was saddened at the state of their familial bonds, Frederick was nothing if not dutiful to the responsibilities they were each bound to as the gods the mortals so worshipped.

 

“Blue’s lips are sewn shut.” Gaius sat cross-legged, gaze turned away from his traitorous so-called love and the annoying, still unwanted companion of theirs. Frederick’s brow creased, frustrated at the lack of information.

 

“I saw him in the Underworld a few days ago, when I was leaving after conducting my business there,” Cordelia offered, unsure if it was helpful at all. Why was Gaius so difficult with Frederick anyway? She knew the god of welfare cared for Chrom as he would a younger brother. “I was about to call out to him but Chrom seemed to know where he was going.”

 

“What business does he have there, in that realm of death?” Frederick’s eyes widened. He had heard nothing good of the place, only knowing that a disgraced war god was banished to under the earth for all his transgressions.

 

“Not a realm of death, just of the dead,” Cordelia corrected. She knew it pained Stella so to hear of the ingrained bias of the other gods against her domain. The other gods tread carefully around her, knowing that someone had to rule over the dead and separate the good from the bad, but it didn’t mean they had to like her.

 

“His mother died. Did you know that, huh, Freddy-bear?” Gaius spat out bitterly. Chrom had always complained about Frederick, mostly because of how overbearing and dedicated to duty the brown-haired god was. Chrom didn’t blame Frederick’s fervor but he could get overbearing quite easily.

 

“When?” Frederick choked. He knew of Chrom’s love and devotion to his mother and it was not surprising. Sofia was a surprisingly shrewd and endlessly fascinating woman, having caught the attention of the sky god and bore him his only son.

 

“Some time ago. He went down to the Underworld to talk to her one last time. He told me the lady of the place let him speak to his mother one last time, an unusual favor for those who were able to make it to her throne.” Gaius shrugged, probably the only piece of information he was willing to give Frederick. He knew of some things, mostly that Chrom was intrigued with the white blonde-goddess, enough that it warranted Gaius’ teasing and speculations. He knew that Chrom was slowly going off the deep end for her, probably in love. Gaius saw that look on himself when he realized he was in love with Cordelia, not actually just chummy and teasing her anymore, but Chrom was resolute and said absolutely nothing. He was guarded enough to keep his affairs his own, so much so he wouldn’t even share it with Gaius.  _ ‘Perhaps it’s the teasing that made him so closed off. That and the bastard is so easily embarrassed’. _

 

“I… see.” Frederick swallowed thickly. He got much more than he anticipated. It was at least something to give to the sky god at their next audience. What was a god who controlled much of life doing in the Underworld? It made absolutely no sense. Then it all came crashing down. The brunet’s eyes widened at his sudden thought, fear almost paralyzing him in place. Was Chrom intent on developing a relationship with the lady of death? Frederick fervently hoped it was just his imagination, otherwise all hell would rain down upon him and his now-wayward charge.

 

**—x—**

 

Deep beneath the surface of the earth, Stella hid her grin behind a pillow. She felt unusually warm despite the cool breeze, what happened earlier still spinning in her head. Chrom loved her. He told her that he  _ loved _ her. Her cheeks burned, Stella burying her face even deeper into her pillow as steam escaped her ears. She knew some measure of love, of familial affection from Lon’qu and Olivia as the years passed. Part of her was intrigued, not jealous, at the different path her two friends tread together. Not without her, but still some distance away. They would die before the left her alone. Stella never thought to learn of a love like this, not until what seemed to be a rather textbook whirlwind romance started with Chrom.

 

They had only known each other a few months, since the beginning of spring to between the edges of summer and autumn. Shy hand holding became more sure and comfortable, his hand usually clasped around hers. The fleeting kisses they first shared slowly grew more heated. They spent hours just in pressed against each other affectionately, her back against his chest, his hands wrapped around her waist, with a comfortable silence falling between them. They relished warmth, her more especially because of her dark, foreboding home. Whenever they had to separate, unspoken words of pain were painted on their faces, hearts breaking until they could delay no longer, but a promise of another day together wordlessly assured. It was almost as though they had found what was missing from their bland lives.

 

Light footfalls broke Stella from her reverie, the young goddess peeking out from her pillow as she tried to suppress the redness of her cheeks. Olivia stepped in, a few halved pomegranates in the small bowl she carried. Stella sat up straight, pillow falling down, picking up a few seeds when the dancer sat down beside her.

 

“You’re happier lately,” Olivia observed.

 

“What do you mean?” Her fingers traced the edge of the bowl, debating if she should eat some more.

 

“Your smile.”

 

“I’m not Lon’qu, silly. Of course I smile.” Stella set aside the bowl for now, pulling her friend into an embrace, hiding her expression as she pressed her forehead against the crook of Olivia’s shoulder.

 

“I mean you smile more. Chrom is good for you.” Olivia patted the mass of white blonde hair, gently stroking it when she felt Stella bury her head deeper as though embarrassed. “I’m happy for you. Lon’qu is… happy for you.”

 

“He is?” Stella asked dubiously, lifting her head and pressing her chin down instead.

 

“In his own way I suppose.” Olivia laughed.

 

“He’d have Chrom in chains and kicked into hell if he had his way,” Stella mumbled bitterly, brow creasing. She remembered when Chrom met Lon’qu, though really it’s more that the swordsman ambushed Chrom with a brandished sword dangerously close to the blue haired god’s neck. At least he had the good sense to slowly acknowledge Lon’qu’s presence, raise his hands as though in surrender, and back away slowly until he was at Stella’s side. Lon’qu never dared to raise a sword at Stella, deciding to sheath his blade in a huff.

 

“He doesn’t want to see your heart broken, is all.”

 

“I’d send Chrom flying back from whence he came if he ever did that,” Stella replied resolutely. She had guarded her heart long enough, not that she had had many suitors, or any for that matter, to know it wasn’t something so easily given. She had watched Lon’qu bumble around and struggle to admit his feelings for Olivia and had seen the joy in his eyes when she gave her heart freely to him. It was the same look Chrom had earlier, when their relationship had simply, organically, evolved into something more, where they no longer had a hold on their own hearts. In their bones they knew that he was hers just as much as she was his.

 

“You would?” Olivia’s eyes widened at her friend’s bold and sure statement. She never pegged Stella for the violent type.

 

“Of course!” Stella exclaimed, peeling herself off of Olivia only to whisper in her ear. “But I don’t think I ever will. He said he loves me and I told him that I loved him too.” She pulled away, a blush slowly creeping down to her neck. Olivia squealed in delight, clutching her friend close, Stella awkwardly patting the dancer’s back as they dissolved into girlish giggles. It had been far too long when they shared such a relaxed moment.

 

Lon’qu leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a rare but gentle smile on his face. His wife and his sister-all-but-in-name were enjoying themselves on a night of rare peace.  _ ‘If that blue-haired bastard makes Stella happy, I suppose I shall have to learn to… tolerate him.’ _ He looked sideways, glancing at the window and the starless sky above. Whatever would make this place far less gloomy was usually more than welcome, a sudden image of children running around in complete glee flashed in his mind. Lon’qu winced, trying to suppress a blush when he realized that it was less embarrassing to imagine Stella with her own child and much more mortifying to imagine himself a sire. It would be the death of him to have his own heir, if only because it meant that his and Olivia’s hearts would truly and utterly belong to the little one who was born of them. It made his heart flutter at the thought. 

 

**—x—**

 

Chrom ground his teeth, fingers digging into his palms so hard it almost bled. He barely managed to maintain a neutral expression. Most other gods would cower and break after being subjected to the sky god’s odious wrath but not him. He would stare back at his father, eyes stormy, and would take in everything without giving Sirius the satisfaction of a reaction from his only son. Chrom barely registered the question his father finally asked, after the long, deafening silence that would have broken just about anyone.

 

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” The blond before Chrom drawled, eyes narrowing as Sirius shifted on his throne. His son stayed silent, his blue eyes steely. Sirius frowned, annoyed at the stubbornness before him. “No one is supposed to go to the Underworld, save those on official business.”

 

“My mother died.” Chrom kept his replies terse and calculated.

 

“You should have let that  _ goddess _ handle Sofia’s affairs.” Chrom’s muscles tensed. His father had no right to say his mother’s name, not after practically abandoning her and then stealing him away when he had shown power beyond what was mortal.

 

“I bade her goodbye.”

 

“So you did. But why do you continue to go down to hell?” The underworld wasn’t all hell, but to Sirius it may as well be. “You have no business there. You never did, but I suppose I will grant you pardon for that one transgression.”

 

“Stella is good. She’s kind and warm and even funny.” Chrom’s eyes narrowed. He could feel his temples pounding.

 

“Any spawn of Validar can never be good. I am thankful he only ever had one,” Sirius spat out, fingers gripping the edges of his throne, lightning crackling faintly behind him. He was slowly losing patience with his son.

 

“You don’t even know her.” Chrom rose to the challenge, defending the one who held his heart. “Her heart wept at the ruthlessness of her father, who didn’t even spare the innocents a second look before casting them down into the pits of hell. She overthrew him to be fair to all who died, to give them the afterlife they deserved, good or bad.”

 

“I can hardly believe Validar’s spawn can do such a thing.” Sirius sighed, rubbing his temples before continuing, unmindful of Chrom’s now tightly clenched fists. “Frederick believes you to be courting the girl.”

 

“And if I am?” Damn Frederick and his meddling.

 

“You waste your time. She’ll only drag you down to the depths of hell.”

 

“It’s not in her nature,” Chrom defended.  _ ‘Besides, if anyone is dragging me to the depths of hell, it’s you.’ _

 

“Regardless. I forbid you to see her any more.”

 

“What makes you think I’ll even listen to you?” Chrom’s heart was pounding painfully, almost as though his chest were far too small.

 

“There’s this domestic goddess, loves fortunes and flowers, who’ll be good for you, submit to you,” Sirius explained.

 

“You can’t even begin to know what’s good for me.” Chrom was starting to lose his patience, blood beginning to boil. The air started to turn frigid, as though winter would be upon them.

 

“I am your father, of course I do. You will marry her.” Sirius was tired of debating with his son, waving his hand as though dismissing Chrom.

 

“I will do no such thing.” The hair on Chrom’s back rose, hackles raising at the sky god’s insistence to control every aspect of his life.

 

“You will because you have no choice in the matter.” Golden eyes narrowed, patience already completely worn down. 

 

“No.” If not for their immortality, all signs of life died in that room, ice thick and almost unbreakable. 

 

“What do you mean 'no?’” Sirius stood up now, lightning dancing at his fingertips, weak but ready to strike. “Make this go away.” As much power as the sky god wielded, he did not have control over ensuring the things that sustained life. His domain was of lightning and thunder, of whatever clouds conjured by his son, to rule the heavens as he saw fit. Sirius did not have his usual delicacy any longer. “Get over the bitch. She’s nothing.” 

 

“How dare you.” Chrom’s eyes were wild.

 

“You heard me. She’s  _ nothing _ .”

 

Jerking his body around, Chrom left, feet stomping and ice crushing against the weight of his boots, Falchion shifting against his hip.  _ ‘Bastard. How dare he.’ _ It was rare to see the relatively even-tempered god angry, life sucked out of each spot he passed. Trees were barren, grass wilted, flowers shrivelled at his every step. When he turned the corner, he vanished, his cloak floating behind him. There were no goodbyes. 

 

**—x—**

 

Stella was seated on her bed, her feet delicately tucked under her as she read, Olivia and Lon’qu long gone. She felt a shiver run down her spine, not from the cold but it heralded an arrival. She paused, eyes glancing around her room as she took time to consider whether she would go out herself or have someone else check. A familiar warmth seemed to call her, pulling her away from the comfort of her mattress and into the throne room. She pulled her cloak over her bare shoulders, heart pounding as she moved.

 

“Chrom!” Bare feet padded across cold stone, Stella rushing forward, barely catching him as he fell to his knees, dragging her along with him. He buried his head into the crook of her neck, arms pulling her into a fierce embrace as he choked out a sob, shoulders heaving. “What’s wrong?” She felt his tears, hot with anger, run down her neck. The few minutes of anguish seemed like hours, Stella feeling absolutely helpless.

 

“Let me stay,” he pleaded, refusing to look up, tears finally subsiding.

 

“This isn’t your home,” she whispered, resting her chin on the crown of his head as she looked skyward. “You don’t belong here.”  _ ‘You’re far too good to be trapped under the earth like me.’ _

 

“Anywhere with you is home.” Her heart burst at his words.

 

“Okay. Stay as long as you need. I’ll be with you.” She pulled away slightly, Chrom nearly panicking but placated as soon as she cupped his face. “I’m right here. Talk when you’re ready.” She kissed away the last tears that clung to his lashes. “But for now, rest.” Her hands picked up his, leading him away from the dark of the throne room and into the warmth of her chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greek myths mentioned: Trojan War/ The Iliad (still) and The Odyssey. Can I just say that the O N L Y good guys in the Trojan War are Hector and his family. Odysseus… is a crafty bastard and I feel sorry for him and his wife (HIS WIFE) in The Odyssey, BUT GOD DAMMIT ERIS, APHRODITE, AND PARIS.
> 
> Also, why Stella has a ridiculous amount of towels, no one knows. Also, I diverted Frederick’s loyalties to Chrom’s father instead, mostly for plot-driven purposes. He still cares for Chrom but ultimately answers to Chrom’s father.
> 
> And it must stand for something that most of the stuff I’ve written since starting to write again involve me sinning, when all previous works involved absolutely no sin. 10+ years in between really does something to you, apparently. Let it also be known that this chapter’s sin was totally unplanned and it just… happened.
> 
> Anyway, back to school and going to get started on my thesis. Soon. I guess. I don’t know. My professor still has to email me on what I need to do next ;; This will PROBABLY affect how often I can write (technical writing takes a lot more brainpower for me than creative writing…) but hopefully not too much? That I can still update every week-ish or so. I’m being optimistic here, haha.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a couple of weeks since the last update and school has since started. Came from a thesis orientation and it’s going to be a hell of a ride to try and finish it within the school year so I can get my MA ;; My update schedule will likely slow down to once every 2 - 3 weeks but I’m likely to update my [one-shot collection](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11643966/chapters/26192154) every now and then. Thank you all for your patience!

Stella sighed, eyes gazing downward on the mop of blue hair on top of her, rising and falling to the tune of her chest. Idly, she ran her fingers through the mess, gently untangling any knots she found. She offered Chrom his own room, not too far from her own, but he refused. His eyes lacked their usual vitality and it pained her to see it. Stella wanted to help but refused to press the issue either. If time was what he needed, then time was what she’d give him, along with the reassurance that she would be there no matter what. In any case, cuddling next to a warm body was welcome, after flat out threatening Lon’qu for the thousandth time when the swordsman realized Stella was going to share her bed with a man.

 

“Thank you,” Chrom whispered, content to just be with her and hide under the covers. He shifted, pushing himself up and pressing his weight down on his palm as he rest his forehead against hers. “For not asking.” The sheets fell, moonlight glowing against his broad, corded back and her lightly freckled shoulders, skin almost alabaster where her chest started to swell, lending an ethereal glow to the two immortals. Chrom leaned forward, kissing her tenderly and sweetly before pulling away. And then suddenly possessed, he kissed her again and again and again, as though Stella would disappear if they weren’t touching in some way.

 

“I’m right here,” she whispered, pulling his head down as she pressed her lips against the shell of his ear. Her arms snaked around Chrom’s neck, strong and secure. Skin against skin, Chrom shifted against her, twisting until Stella fell back, hair splayed like a halo against the sheets, his palms beside her face, caging her in, his knee in between her thighs pushing her bare legs open. Love burned in her eyes, a shy but sure smile playing on her lips as she raised her arms, her fingers dancing on his cheeks, occasionally brushing a tear away. “I’m right here,” she murmured, hand travelling down his chest and resting above his heart, “Just as you are here.” Stella’s free hand picked up his, sword-calloused fingers brushing against pale skin, setting his weathered hand atop her heart.

 

Chrom’s other hand gave way, buckling as he fell down beside her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He pulled Stella close, closing his eyes as he inhaled, the scent of her washing over him as tension slowly fell away. “Thank you,” he whispered again, unsure if she heard but her fingers tangled in his hair affectionately proved otherwise. Chrom murmured his gratitude like a mantra, marveling at the strength of the woman in his arms as he broke down, unmindful of his state and constantly reassuring him that she was just there. That was how they fell asleep, legs tangled and arms entwined around each other, Chrom breathing her in, Stella promising to help him through everything.

 

They woke up in much the same way, shy but warm smiles on their lips as they continued to drink in each other’s face. Stella shifted first, urging him to get dressed, laughing when she noticed Chrom’s embarrassment as he picked up clothes thrown everywhere. Her own dress was conveniently at the opposite edge of her bed, quickly and easily pulled over her head by the time Chrom was seated on the mattress, back towards her. Stella crawled forward and knelt against him, pressing soft kisses against his bare shoulder as her arms laced around his waist, idly helping him button his vest. 

 

“I’ll send for your food.” Stella left no room for argument, her dark brown eyes resolute. She refused to have him eat their food. No matter what Chrom was going through, it would be nothing so terrible that the only solution was to be virtually imprisoned deep beneath the earth for the rest of their immortal lives. That unfortunate fate belonged to only Lon’qu, Olivia, and herself, even though they could leave from time to time. In the end, they always had to return, lest they weaken and eventually die. “I will not have you bound here Chrom. I refuse.”

 

“Okay.” He didn’t put up a fight, content that he was with here with her. He turned around and took her in his arms, swinging her legs across his lap as she leaned into him. Chrom craved her touch, as though it was the only thing that reminded him he was  _ alive _ . He was in the realm of the dead, after all, and though he wasn’t completely powerless, there was a faint sense of unease that had to be constantly dispelled. He was here by choice and would willingly hand over his powers to anyone the Falchion deemed willing, if it meant escape from his father’s control. Chrom weakly thought of his older half-sister, the goddess of wisdom, whose forehead was marked with the same design on his right shoulder. Light was starting to peek through, signaling the start of a new and quiet day, the exact opposite of the world above.

 

Just where the surface scratched the depths of the earth, the wind howled. Rain fell but halfway through its descent, it froze, crashing into too wet earth, slashing much of the unharvested crops of autumn. The sky flickered, black then blue then black again, the sun barely peeking through. Everyone huddled into their homes, praying to the god of weather and the seasons in the hopes of appeasing him, unknowing that their supplications were all for naught. Chrom’s wrath was not directed at them, but they were the unfortunate victims. The tumult eating away at him was relentless and until his father took back his words, he did not care. As callous as it was, it seemed the blue haired god did inherit one thing from his father: his singular focus on what was important, regardless of what was happening around, of the consequences that heightened awareness entailed.

 

Gaius sneezed, nose red from the cold as he glared outside his window.  _ ‘Where in holy hell is Blue? What the fuck is wrong with him!?’ _ He slumped at the windowsill, forearms flat across, bright red nose barely an inch away from the glass. The thief god had been waiting around the corner from where Chrom had been summoned but barely managed a word before the blue haired god vanished. Gaius’ eyes widened at what was left in Chrom’s wake, the ground frozen over, half the walls covered in ice and now, the whole world was submerged under the cold. There was no mistaking Chrom’s wrath but where did the god who cared for life go? The dullness in Chrom’s blue eyes was haunting, as though life itself had vanished from his soul and he was merely a husk.  _ ‘I need to see Freddy-bear. He’d know a thing or two.’ _

 

**—x—**

 

Time passed by too quickly and too slowly all at once. The days moved in the blink of an eye, Stella, Olivia, Lon’qu finishing their duties with practiced ease. Chrom stood back, watching in both rapt fascination and stunned fear as he watched judgment. The gods in the heavens hardly interacted with any mortals, save the few indiscretions of some of Chrom’s peers, but mostly satisfied with finishing their duties then lazing about. Here, the work seemed endless and almost unnoticed, save for those sent to paradise who were all too eager to smile and praise at the goddess who ruled over them all. The evenings were slow and languid, friendly conversation among the four of them and bliss followed when they retired to bed.

 

“Does anything interesting happen here?” Chrom savored the fresh cup of tea they had procured for him, steam curling upwards from his cup. Slices of golden apples glimmered on the saucer. He vaguely thought of the sisters, the Hesperides, tending to the gardens, the trees bearing the golden fruit the centerpiece of it all, of the giant that held the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’d been surviving off of the fruit, sweet, juicy, and tart all at once.

 

“Sometimes. There’s a god who came down and demanded to talk to his mother,” Stella replied coyly, an amused smile on her face as she flipped the page of her book. Her gaze never left the pages, but she assumed Chrom’s face was a cross between indignation and embarrassment.

 

“I heard he ended up winning the heart of the goddess who rules here,” Chrom replied without skipping a beat. Stella raised her eyebrow and lowered her book. She did not expect a witty reply. If it was banter he wanted, then banter he’d get.

 

“Oh really?” A smirk tugged at her lips. “What makes you say that?” She untucked her feet, putting them flat on the cold ground as she leaned forward slightly.

 

“Reliable source,” Chrom replied coolly, sipping at his tea leisurely. He relished moments like this, when they could be lost in their own world and nothing else mattered.

 

“You know what I think?” Stella reached for his cup and turned it gracefully, stopping only when she reached the edge his lips touched.

 

“Pray tell.” He pressed his fingers together, palms apart, hands pressed against his lips.

 

“I think.” Stella sipped the tea, gently setting it on the low table between them, before she stood up, making her way behind Chrom’s chair. “I think the god never had a chance.” Her nails raked gently across his forearm, dancing against his exposed arm before stopping at the tendon of his shoulder. She smiled devilishly as Chrom suppressed a shudder unsuccessfully.

 

“What makes you say that?” Chrom’s Adam’s apple bobbed slowly, his gulp long and drawn out. His eyes shut tightly when he felt Stella squat down beside him, hot breath dancing against his cheek.  _ ‘This was a terrible idea.’ _ He swallowed again, willing himself to keep his hands where they were instead of moving to the armrests and clutching them until kingdom come.  _ ‘She’s going to win…’ _

 

“Because she always get what she wants,” Stella murmured, eyes closing as her voice dropped lower and lower, her lips barely an inch from Chrom’s ear. “And when she saw the god, she knew she wanted him.” Thinking back, Stella knew they were equally swept up with each other, but it was fun to tease Chrom where she could. He drove her wild in bed, but she riled him up with her words. They balanced each other well in that sense: he was a man of action and bravado, she was a woman of thought and restraint.

 

“Stella…” Chrom half-moaned, finally willing himself to face his lover but only to brush against her hair as she stood up. He growled in annoyance, attempting to pull her into his lap but she quickly moved away, eyes sparkling and her affectionate laughter ringing in his ears. He sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he slumped forward in defeat. There was never a dull moment with her, unlike the rest of the gods who seemed so stuck on protocol and decorum. Perhaps that was why he was friends with Gaius, despite the thief god’s antics. It sure beat the decidedly boring life he’d otherwise live, and anyway, he had a comrade-at-arms in Cordelia trying to reel Gaius in when handling him became too much. But Stella, Stella was a whole unto herself, someone he’d never get tired of. He’d die before that happened.

 

“Someone asked me if they could bring Cerberus to the surface.” Stella sat back down on her chair primly, as though she didn’t even try to seduce Chrom but leave him hanging. His head shot up at her words, eyebrows raised in confusion.

 

“To seriously answer your question if anything interesting happens here.” Every time a mortal came down to see her with some sort of plea, Stella was impressed. They braved the ferryman’s foul personality, the crashing waters of the rivers, and the demons that snapped at the heels of both the living and the dead. Still, they found something in themselves to perhaps face her wrath at their audacious requests, knowing they were literally knocking at death’s door. The gods were different, able to come a go as they pleased but no one ever did, save for those who had business with her.

 

“Who’s Cerberus?”

 

“Three-headed dog who makes sure the dead don’t escape. Well, the ones sent to damnation don’t escape anyway.” Stella ran a hand through her hair, idly playing with the ends as she huffed. “Most people think Cerberus is a terrifying beast, and I suppose I can imagine that, but he’s just a lovable furball.”

 

“Stella, three-headed dogs trained to attack typically aren’t the picture of friendly, overgrown puppy.” His eyes darted around, half-worried the dog was going to drag him out of his master’s realm. “Where is Cerberus? I’ve never seen him.”

 

“Around, somewhere.” Stella waved her free hand distractedly. “He was already gone by the time you first step foot here. He’s only just come back, so I bet he’s running wild and subjugating rebellions with Lon’qu or something.”

 

**—x—**

 

Gaius was freezing, huddled by the fire with a thick woolen blanket over him. The harsh winter was getting to him. The thief god didn’t mind the occasional cold day or brief winter spell, but this was different. Anything that dared step outside would freeze in an instant and snap off. By virtue of his profession, Gaius very much appreciated having all ten of his fingers still attached.  _ ‘When I see Blue I’m going to kill him!’ _ His teeth chattered loudly, brows furrowed as he continued to stare at the lowly burning fire. Turning his head, he stared at the woman who was casually seated on the bed, legs tucked primly under her. “How in the world are you not freezing woman?”

 

“My body temperature always ran a little on the warm side…?” Cordelia offered unhelpfully, setting her book down. Gaius glared at her, shooting daggers. The redhead sighed, beckoning for him to come over with open arms. Long gone were the days when she had been utterly embarrassed by any affectionate behavior, at least when they were alone. “Come to bed, we’ve both had long days.” She and her acolytes were always bone-tired at the end of the day, the chaos of what seemed to be never ending winter was slowly undoing any sense of order and justice. The earth-bound people were getting desperate and that meant doing just about anything to survive.

 

“It’s all Freddy-bear’s fault,” Gaius snarled lowly, managing to pick himself up and drag his blanket behind him. “He just had to tattle.” He slumped forward, managing to smoothly land both of their bodies in bed, arms pulling Cordelia flush against his chest, blanket covering them neatly. Gaius was anything but the picture of efficiency, except when he was turning in. Who was he to skim off any extra minutes of lazing about with unnecessary movements? “You are warm. Unbelievably warm. I hate you.”

 

Sunlight was barely peeking through the dark, snow-heavy clouds when they woke up. Cordelia just wanted to stay in bed, but the chaos caused by Chrom’s abrupt disappearance was  _ torment _ . She barely even managed to scrounge up enough hours in the day for a decent night’s rest. If she didn’t need it, Cordelia would be working around the clock to maintain  _ some _ semblance of order, but even immortals needed their rest. Reluctantly, Cordelia peeled herself off of the warm bed, only now just realizing she was alone. A note was left in Gaius’ stead.

 

_ Went to have a nice little chat with Freddy-bear. I’ve had enough of this terrible winter and will find Blue no matter what it takes. _

 

Cordelia groaned at the trouble the thief god was likely to cause, but deep down was thankful for his rare bout of being proactive. Still, any interaction with Frederick was bound to be a catastrophe.  _ ‘Perhaps I should go to Cherche to help mediate…’ _

 

Frederick, to say the least, was caught unawares when Gaius stormed into his office, wrapped in a veritable amount of furs on top of his undoubtedly thick coat to further highlight his misery. The brown haired god wasn’t impervious to the cold, but somehow managed in his fine shirts made of heavier materials and his sturdy blue armor. “What can I do for you, Gaius?” Frederick signed a document and neatly set it to one side, initial shock of Gaius barging in having already settled down.

 

“What the fuck did you do?” Gaius growled, green eyes murky with rage.

 

“Language.” Frederick signed another paper.

 

“In case you didn’t hear me the first time, Freddy-bear, what the fuck did you do?”

 

Frederick sighed, weary. It seemed that any chance of having a civil conversation with Gaius was nigh impossible. “What are you talking about?” Nearly everything the god of welfare did was a pain to Gaius, likely because their domains were such polar opposites. He was charged with protection and making sure prosperity was handed out in some measure. Gaius was in charge of reckless abandon and thievery, of filching things that did not belong to him. It was a strange sight to see that his betrothed was the goddess of law, order, and justice but where Cordelia could overlook Gaius’ (many) shortcomings and see the man he was beneath it all, Frederick could not. To him, Gaius was a thief and a trickster, one always had to be wary against.

 

“What the fuck did you do that made Chrom  _ leave _ ?” Gaius was seething. One minute, he and Chrom were hovering at Sofia’s grave, fresh flowers laid against her tombstone, the next Chrom had been summoned by his father. Sirius hardly ever called for his son and private audiences always ended up with a surly Chrom. “There’s no way you had nothing to do with it.”

 

Guilt stabbed painfully through Frederick’s heart at Gaius’ spot on accusation. He would be remiss in his duties if he did not voice his concerns to the sky god. After all, it was to Sirius that Frederick owed much of his loyalty, handing the very same out in measured doses to the sky god’s children. The sedate Emmeryn was easy to handle and watch out for, often holed up in the library reading books. Vivacious Lissa was a headache but was often just out to enjoy herself in the peace of the heavens, playing. Reckless Chrom was another beast in and of itself. While he had always performed his responsibilities, Chrom was the most unpredictable of the three and needed a constant eye on him, lest he do something stupid. Which was exactly what happened when he all but flew to the Underworld to speak to his dead mother one last time. What Frederick, and practically everyone else, didn’t expect was for Chrom to continue going to the Underworld and court the lady of death, even with all the rumors of the likely inherited ruthlessness from her sire.

 

“I was merely carrying out my duties to Lord Sirius,” Frederick replied thinly, evenly. For all Chrom’s brashness to his father, the brunet merely expected him to verbally lash out and start another fight with Sirius. His actual reaction, Chrom’s abandonment of his duties and his taking of the Falchion (though no one else could wield it anyway) was far more grave. Everything alive was dying, or had already died. Nothing grew. The sun continued to shine but the thick clouds filled with relentless snow blocked its warm, life giving rays. Though Chrom’s wrath was directed primarily onto his father, everyone else suffered in his displeasure and no one could find him.

 

“I get that he’s your lord and  _ master _ .” Gaius sneered the last word, Frederick opening his mouth to retort but suddenly, uncharacteristically, clammed up. “But what did you think telling Sirius would accomplish?” Frederick bristled at the lack of a title but pushed his annoyance aside, admitting to himself he was just as guilty in setting current events in motion.

 

“Lord Sirius is his father and knows what is best for Chrom. I merely provided the information that was requested of me. Don’t you think it’s utterly bizarre that Chrom should  _ willingly _ go to the Underworld when he has no business there?” Frederick hoped the stability in his voice belied the weakness in his resolve. He felt guilty for being part of the reason that drove Chrom away. Though his father had dealt the damage directly, Sirius never would have done so if Frederick said nothing of his speculations about Chrom and the goddess of the dead.

 

“Sirius knows what’s best for Chrom?” Gaius laughed bitterly. “Sirius doesn’t even bother to visit Sofia’s grave even though it is a mere pebble’s throw from his quarters. How in the hell do you expect him to even begin to understand Blue?” Frederick willed himself not to shrink at Gaius’ accurate observations. “I am going to find Blue and fix this. Don’t you fucking dare think you’re off the hook Frederick. I’m not doing this to save your ass from whatever guilt you’re feeling. I’m doing this to find my  _ friend _ .”

 

“How are you going to do that?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something. Which is more than whatever the hell you’re doing.” Gaius stormed out, as angrily as he could with all the furs still wrapped around him. At least now he had a good idea as to why Chrom left, although Gaius had his suspicions. Now he just had to talk to Cordelia, to find out how to prepare himself to meet the goddess of the Underworld and the mysteries of her realm.

 

**—x—**

 

Chrom frowned, half-wondering if they were pulling his leg, half-amused that this was the thing that was supposed to be terrifying. He crouched lowly, eyes almost crossing, unable to focus on  _ which head _ he was supposed to be looking at. The mighty Cerberus was in front of him, about fifteen inches tall, tail wagging incessantly, three tongues hanging out with a thinly veiled threat of wanting to slobber all over Chrom.  _ ‘I’ve seen bigger dogs hanging around the mortals than this.’ _ Chrom absently, stretched out a hand, fingers scratching behind three pairs of ears lazily, all three heads whining appreciatively.

 

“I see you’ve met Cerberus.” Chrom lifted his gaze, blue eyes meeting steely charcoal gray.

 

“Stella made him out to be a terrible beast.” The god of the seasons continued playing with Cerberus, absently drawing dizzying patterns in the air while three heads followed his fingers. “Unless you sic him on people terrified of dogs I suppose.”

 

“Cerberus, attack.” The dog merely tilted his heads off to one side, unsure why Lon’qu was telling him to bite someone who clearly loved him. Chrom turned to face the swordsman, one eyebrow raised in amusement. After shaking off his hesitance, Cerberus pounced on Chrom, having caught him slightly vulnerable, the blue haired god laughing as three heads poked and sniffed and attempted to slather him in puppy kisses. “Tch, I need to train him better.” Lon’qu’s eyes narrowed into slits as he sighed. Truthfully, he had long since overcome his initial, immediate dislike of Chrom, but that didn’t mean he shed his overprotectiveness of Stella. That was something that had been deeply ingrained in him since childhood, not something easily displaced.

 

“No puppy kisses! Down boy.” Chrom was attempting to be stern but failed miserably, two hands clearly not enough to defend him from  _ three _ heads.  _ ‘This is probably what Stella meant when she called him a lovable furball.’ _

 

“I see you’ve met Cerberus.” Stella smiled wryly, mischievously ignoring Chrom’s cry for help. Lon’qu nodded his head slowly, acknowledging her presence. “I suppose this was your doing, Lon’qu.”

 

“Me?” The swordsman drew back in mock offense but the almost imperceptible smile on his face gave him away. “I would never dare to have Cerberus attack someone you consider precious.” Stella stared disbelievingly, ears reddening, at Lon’qu’s words. Just as she was about to retort, the doors to the main hall opened abruptly, a powerful gust of wind blowing through. Instinctively, her robes and tunic morphed into her gown, arming her with her full power, eyes narrowing into slits. 

 

Cerberus lost his playfulness, jumping off of Chrom lithely as his hackles raised, all three heads growling. Gone was the small dog and in its place was a terrifying beast, towering over the three deities, taking heavy steps towards the door.  _ ‘Ah, there it is.’ _ Chrom suppressed a shiver, somehow still managing to amble to his feet despite the intensity of the situation. His left hand gripped the base of Falchion’s hilt, ready to push it out of its sheath at a moment’s notice.

 

“Who goes there?” Lon’qu’s voice boomed, his Killing Edge already drawn.

 

“Is this how you greet all your visitors? Man. No wonder no one—” The intruder froze midway from shucking off his heavy cloak, green eyes widening in bone-chilling panic when his nose  _ almost _ touches one of the wide open maw of Cerberus, the other two growling deeply on either side of his head. “Um. Hello.” He laughed nervously, hand scratching the back of his head as one foot stepped back.

 

“You are?” Stella’s voice held none of Lon’qu’s open contempt but it seemed to echo even louder.

 

“Mind getting Fluffy here to back off?” Gaius swallowed thickly, head still but gaze darting everywhere.

 

“Answer the question.” The trespasser didn’t notice Lon’qu cut across the distance between them, barely a hair's width between the blade and his neck.

 

“Gaius, god of thieves and trickery.” The orange-haired man gulped, his life flashing before his eyes.

 

“Stand down, he’s a friend.” Chrom sighed, a headache beginning to form. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Gaius found him, the crafty bastard, but it didn’t look like he was here for a visit.

 

“Hm.” Lon’qu pulled his sword away as he motioned for Cerberus to pull back. Gaius exhaled deeply, unaware he had been holding his breath the entire time. “What business do you have here?” Gaius ignored Lon’qu. As soon as he tiptoed past Cerberus, he dashed forward and fisted Chrom’s collar, shaking the blue haired god in anger.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gaius shouted, Stella’s form barely registering in his periphery. “Don’t you know what your disappearance is doing to the world?” Chrom looked away, lips pressed thinly together.

 

“I don’t see the problem with Chrom being here though.” Stella tilted her head slightly, confused. Yes Chrom wasn’t in the heavens where he was supposed to be, but as long as he wasn’t abandoning his duties, shouldn’t it be fine?

 

“The problem, Bubbles, is that the world has frozen over without Blue here to manage the weather and seasons,” Gaius drawled, shaking Chrom for emphasis. Chrom threw off Gaius’ grip, gingerly rubbing his sore neck, eyes narrowing with simmering fury.

 

“Still, shouldn’t it be winter by now? Isn’t it supposed to be cold?” Stella was still confused.

 

“Everything is halfway dead. People can’t go out of their homes and will probably starve to death. Yes, winter is cold but people are still able to forage and harvest a few winter crops.” Gaius’ voice hardened, focusing his gaze and meeting Chrom’s. “All because Blue here isn’t working.”  _ ‘It’s ironic how I’m pointing out that he’s not working when Blue’s the one who usually does that.’ _

 

“Chrom…” Stella’s eyes widened, stunned.

 

“My domain falls under life. There’s not much I can do here because this is the Underworld.” Chrom’s voice was low, his guilt somewhat audible, but despite that, he was resolute.

 

“Yes Blue, because this is the realm of the  _ dead _ . You know, the opposite of alive.” Chrom shot Gaius a dirty look.

 

“Why…?” Stella was disbelieving that he could do such a thing, her clothes slowly morphing back into her pale pink silks, her deep purple cloak resting on her shoulders.

 

“My father doesn’t approve of me coming down here. He doesn’t think you’re any good.” Chrom’s voice remained flat.

 

“Not the first person who’s ever thought that about me,” Stella remarked dryly.

 

“Then he said he had a problem with me courting you.” Chrom avoided Gaius’ gaze, the thief god probably amused and raring to tease him even because of the confession. Even in the midst of a freezing death, Gaius was still all too willing to crack a joke or two at Chrom’s expense.

 

“But you didn’t have to abandon your duties just to prove a point,” Stella whispered, cheeks coloring at Chrom’s words.

 

“He called you nothing. As if you didn’t matter to anyone.” Chrom ground his teeth, fists clenched tightly.

 

“I’ve been insulted and cursed before. No one likes to die.” She walked forward, gently prying a hand open as she laced his fingers with hers. “I’ve learned to let it slide off my back. The only opinions that matter to me are those of my loved ones.” Stella smiled sadly, gently squeezing his hand. “Go back. Talk with your father.”

 

“No. He’ll think he’s won and start talking to me about marriage to someone I don’t love.”

 

“Then tell him that.”

 

“You don’t understand. Sirius the sky god listens to  _ no one _ .” Chrom’s voice was strained.

 

“You’re lucky you don’t deal with him much Bubbles. Sometimes even the wrong look incites his wrath,” Gaius offered unhelpfully.

 

“Go back Chrom. Talk to your father. Maybe after all this time he’ll listen to you.” Stella’s voice was quiet, trembling because of everything Chrom did. In his mind it was for her, for  _ them _ .

 

“And have a wife forced upon me? No. I won’t marry anyone but you.” Shaking her hand, Chrom stalked off, white cloak billowing behind him.

 

“Did he… did he just—” Stella stared, jaw hanging. Lon’qu’s sharp ears perked up at Chrom’s words, nearly bolting after the demigod and brushing past Stella before her hand gripped his shoulder, tense.

 

“I think he just did Bubbles.” Gaius stared at his remaining companions, the blonde’s free hand hanging limply by her side, the knuckles on her other hand white as her fingers dug into the swordsman.

 

“Can I kill him?” Lon’qu muttered, frustrated. Stella managed a dry laugh at his words that held no bite.

 

“Talk to him. Please. People are dying.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Stella turned to face Gaius. “Will you stay here or will you go back?”

 

“I’ll go back, try to see if there’s any way I can attempt to smooth things over before all hell breaks loose.”

 

“Lon’qu, please escort Gaius back out then. Hopefully the next time we meet it will be in more favorable circumstances.”

 

“Amen to that Bubbles. Amen to that.”

 

**—x—**

 

Chrom’s gaze was empty, focusing on the sphere in his hand. He didn’t mean to pick it up, half wondering if the rest of them had been careless after getting used to his presence or he was just damn lucky. Or unlucky as the case may be. The rind was smooth, the fruit plump and ripe, the red skin just shy of bursting. His fingernails dug slightly into the flesh. It was real. If he ate the pomegranate, then his father could do nothing, be completely and utterly powerless over him. The thought was strangely comforting, if only because it meant independence from a man whom he owed half his existence to but considered the blue haired god just another tool. He was a powerful one yes, but a tool just the same.

 

_ ‘She’ll probably hit me or something.’ _ Chrom’s eyes followed his hand, lifting it until the fruit was level with his mouth. He stared ruefully at the pomegranate, red almost like blood, the scent almost sickeningly sweet. If he ate the fruit, devoured it, he’d be bound to the Underworld. It didn’t sound like such a terrible idea. His life back in the heavens would have been more of a punishment than the Underworld could ever be. Steeling himself, Chrom pressed the pomegranate to his lips, teeth sinking in slowly but surely. A few ruby red seeds fell down to the floor, rolling away. He was halfway finished with the fruit when he felt desperate fists thumping against his back and sobs rippling against him.

 

“What did you do…” Stella slid against his back, knees buckling as she hid her face in her hands, her white blonde hair falling down like a curtain. Chrom tensed, dropping the half eaten fruit as he turned and fell to his knees. He pulled her close, arms wrapped around her heaving shoulders, angry tears falling heavily on her skirt. She didn’t want this life for him, bound to the darkness with her. They could have figured it out, found a way to forge a future together without being shackled somewhere. Stella never had a choice, she was born in the Underworld after all, but he did. Her sobs lessened, Chrom rubbing soothing circles on her upper back as he whispered that everything was going to be okay. “Why?”

 

“I love you,” Chrom replied simply, pressing soft kisses haphazardly on the crown of her head. His free hand traced lightly along her arm, twining their fingers together when he found her hand. Chrom squeezed it gently, lifting it as he pressed her cool palm against his cheek, his sword-calloused hands enveloping it. He breathed her in, a pleasant heat coursing through him at the prompting of lemons and flowers. “I will never love another like I do you. If I have to, I’ll give up everything to be with you, find someone else who can wield the Falchion.” Stella pulled back, eyes wide at his resolve. “I’m sure there’s something else I can do here right?” Chrom smiled wryly.

 

“Don’t.” Stella smiled sadly, bringing her other hand up to cup his cheek. “Don’t give up everything for me. You’re far too good for that.”

 

“Am I? A certain thief god kindly reminded me that the world is freezing to death because of me.”

 

“You didn’t know…” Stella knew much but not of the inner workings of each god’s domain. She supposed that was the case for most.

 

“I did, but I left anyway. I didn’t care.”

 

“Everyone does something stupid sometimes.” Her arms dropped to her lap as she leaned forward, the crown of her head buried in the crook of his neck. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed, I am.” Chrom winced at her words but accepted them anyway. “But you have to go back to your father and fix things, make it so that people don’t have to suffer. I’m sure it’s not going to be easy but it’s not like you have to kill your father to make things better, right?” Stella smiled bitterly, fisting her skirt. The thin silk hardly a barrier, her nails digging painfully into her skin.

 

“You did what you had to,” he murmured, scooping her up in his arms, cradling her as he pushed himself off the floor with a warrior’s grace. “By all accounts, Validar was a wretched god.” Stella curled inwards, feet dangling as she felt his arm steady itself behind her knees. “I suppose one good thing came out of him though.” He squeezed her upper arm affectionately, dipping his head low to sweep kisses along her hairline. “And for that I will forever be grateful.”

  
“You have to go back,” Stella insisted, cheeks reddening when she felt him start to walk. She caught brief glimpses of her surroundings, obscured by her hair and Chrom’s arm.

 

“Come with me.” He soon set her down at the edge of her bed. Chrom knelt in front of her, forehead pressed against her knees. “Please.”

 

“We’ll figure this out, my love.” Stella ran her fingers through his hair, deftly working through any tangles. “Come to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.” Truthfully, she wanted to settle everything at once but pressing Chrom any further would only make things worse. For now, it was at least a step that he was willing to go back.

 

Chrom shifted, one hand skillfully unclasping his sole pauldron. Stella reached over, slim fingers meeting his, helping him unbuckle his baldric and shrugging it off. His gaze was heavy and half-lidded, one hand bringing hers to his lips as they continued to remove the white leather belt from his person. “We’ll figure it out,” he echoed softly, moving to tilt her chin towards him and meeting her lips in a tender kiss. They never imagined to ever find a love so deep this quickly, time almost irrelevant in their immortal lives. Now that they had it, there was no letting go, both of them fiercely possessive of each other.

 

Stella wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her as she fell backwards. She didn’t mind his weight pressing down, air pushing out of her lungs, breathing a little more shallowly as she nibbled on his lower lip, seeking entrance. He acquiesced, one arm moving under her as he adjusted their positions, clambering into bed, pressing his knees firmly against her thighs. Stella sighed against his lips, their hooded eyes briefly meeting each other before fluttering closed. When they finally pulled away, Chrom pushed himself onto his forearms, his eyes full of warmth and affection. She smiled, squirming slightly, her hair spread out beneath her like a halo.

 

“Your father will hate me.” She turned her head away. “For trapping you here.”

 

“You didn’t trap me here. I ate the fruit willingly.” Chrom moved to her side, pulling Stella flush against him. “I would have eaten the whole thing if you didn’t stop me.” He kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder, Stella sighing against him, her arm snaking backwards, nails grazing behind his ear. Chrom traced too-soft kisses along the side of her neck, brushing along her jaw, nipping lightly before stopping just below her ear. His voice was breathy but she understood his question just the same. Stella freed herself and turned to face him, her eyes wide and glassy, tears collecting at the tips of her lower lashes. “Well?” His smile was small but hopeful.

 

Stella showered his face with kisses, nodding as her tears started to flow, falling in rivulets on both of their faces. Her hands encircled one of his, her fingers clasping his as she pressed it against her chest, heart beating wildly, skin warm. Chrom let his hand linger, hazy gaze focused on her deep inhales and exhales before pulling their twined hands to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss against her left ring finger and gazed at its emptiness sadly.

 

“Before we face my father, let’s go to my mother’s house,” he murmured, disentangling their hold. His thumb ran over the knuckle at the base of her ring finger absently. “There’s something of hers I need to find.”

 

“What is it?” She curled herself towards him, relishing the last of their peaceful nights together.

 

“Something she wanted me to have.” He was being intentionally evasive, mind whirling, trying to remember where she kept it. She had a ring made for him when he was born, hoping and praying he would find a love that would last the rest of his unending lifetime, a love she only fleetingly had with his father. Chrom paused, thumb resting, turning his gaze to the faint blush on Stella’s cheeks and the smile on her lips. “I love you.” He sat up and shifted her with him, placing the blonde firmly on his lap, hands splayed against the small of her back.

 

“And I you,” Stella whispered, pressing her forehead against the crown of his head, Chrom dipping it lower to seize the hollow at the base of her neck. Her nails raked across his broad back, digging harshly at his every bite, fingers tugging his shirt upward as she untucked the fabric. Their want, their  _ need _ of each other simmered in the silence, their movements slow but measured. In the depths of night they would find their solace from guilt: him at being the reason for the suffering of many, her at being careless and shackling Chrom to the depths of the earth. For now, they would forget, drowning in love and in each other. Tomorrow, tomorrow they would go to war with their ruler against them who, by all accounts, was hell bent on keeping them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greek myths mentioned: The golden apples cared for by the Hesperides (“Daughters of the Evenings” or “Nymphs of the West.”) and Atlas. The Twelve Labours of Hercules, specifically the last one when he had to capture Cerberus.
> 
> You know how there are different languages of love? I kind of always imagined Chrom experienced love more through physical touch (not necessarily sexual in nature), the Avatar’s is words of affirmation, and for both of them it’s also through acts of devotion.
> 
> Chrom is also admittedly OOC here, because he obviously cares for his subjects as the Exalt but I mean, I needed him to be somewhat more callous to the mortals because, well, Greek deities are pretty selfish for one… and I always planned on him having both the sort-of-Persephone-and-the-Demeter roles anyway.
> 
> Also, Vulpixune and I were talking about how hilarious it would be for Cerberus to basically just be a puppy. So here is Cerberus, about the size of a beagle (the taller one, beagles come in 13” and 15” standard heights). Think about it this way: Cerberus regresses to a tiny dog when he doesn’t have to use his powers so he can conserve it. That and he is such a good boy ;; all puppers are good boys and girls ;;


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, fair warning, Chrom is still kind of OOC in some sections. I did it for the plot! ;; Thanks to Vulpixune for beta-reading parts of this chapter :o

It was comforting, the smell of old books despite the musty air. Stella ran her fingers across the spines of the bound pages, a pleasant shiver running down her back. The single shelf held an interesting array of books, likely Sofia’s favorites. Stella could tell Chrom’s mother loved books, some of the gold leaf worn down either through age or constant grip as its pages were turned. Dark eyes settled on an unusual tome, bound in dark blue leather with silver letterings, stark against the brown leather of the rest of the books. She didn’t jump in surprise when Chrom approached her from behind.  His gaze followed hers briefly, resting on the blue book.

 

“I gave that to Mother a few months after I was whisked away to the heavens.  It details a time long before us, a time when titans ruled instead of the gods.” Chrom rest his forehead against her nape, shoulders slouched ungainly, arms wrapped loosely around her waist. Stella shifted, her hands reaching back and pulling him closer in an awkward embrace. “It talks of primordial beings, of the ruthlessness of the Sky’s youngest son to take over the throne and secure his place by eating his children, of my father’s revolt and the subsequent deaths of most of the titans.”

 

“I’d heard of that time,” Stella replied softly, pulling one arm away as she touched the blue leather spine. She let her fingers curl around the covers, hesitant to pull it from its place.

 

“Here.” Chrom rest his chin on the crook of her neck, plucking the book and offering it to Stella. She tilted her head, a silent question. “Mother would have liked you to.” He sighed, relishing in the warmth. “It’s funny you know, how he refuses to acknowledge the good in you when he did the same thing, fight against his father because of his ruthlessness and addiction to power.” Chrom paused, frowning at the thought that his beloved was in any way similar with his father. “Although I doubt he did so with as intentions as noble as yours, so perhaps simply your actions were the same.”

 

“Did you find what you’re looking for?” She closed her eyes, changing the subject. Stella’s fingers curling and unfurling at the tips of his hair, nails scratching soothingly. She made no motion to take the book from him.

 

“Not yet. Mother keeps things well, things she wants to personally treasure anyway,” he murmured, tired, pressing the bound pages against her chest, forcing her to take the book. To be honest, Chrom was in no hurry to find the ring, much preferring to postpone meeting his father. “She loved books and wanted so much for me to enjoy them as she did, but I preferred the sword and tumbling about. I suppose that’s well and good, considering the Falchion.” He paused, tightening his hold on her waist. “But I regret not having cultivated the love of books while she was still alive.” He pressed a kiss at the base of her skull, whispering against her skin that he’d find it soon. Seeing the book made him remember.

 

“We need to go soon.” Stella sighed, eyes still shut firmly. What she wouldn’t give to have quiet, peaceful days like this. She clutched the blue leather, lips curving into a soft smile as she imagined overlooking Elysium as they read together.

 

“But not yet.” Chrom released his embrace as he took her free hand, tugging her to follow him. She relented, the hem of her silks brushing against the tiles. “Let me show you something.” He pushed the heavy door open, more books than she could ever imagine meeting her gaze. Tall bookshelves stood proudly against the walls, barely an inch left vacant. She wondered how many years of collecting it must have taken to amass such a collection, even more amazing considering Sofia’s modest earnings. Stella walked over to the nearest shelf and almost reverently touched the pristine shelves, her hand still holding the blue book to her chest.

  
Chrom’s mother was a school teacher, she heard him say, from a fairly well-to-do family. Her father was disappointed, to say the least, that she didn’t inherit a single bit of his entrepreneurial spirit, but was immensely proud at the scholar his young daughter was proving to be. By the time she had met Sirius, her parents had passed in an accident. The sky god was just indulging himself in a walk on the surface when he caught sight of her, face hardened and unwilling to let herself cry and be pitied. He had been a source of comfort during trying times, but Sofia wasn’t so naive to believe every sweet word he said and make more sense of every gift, every book, he brought her. With his help, the meager collection her father had given her grew slowly, but most she managed to source on her own. In this room Sofia kept everything that meant the world to her, reminders of a time when her parents were proud of her accomplishments and that there was a god, a man, who once loved her.

 

Tearing her eyes away, Stella looked for Chrom. She found him standing by a bookshelf near the windows, the shutters closed as they feebly kept the cold at bay, Chrom’s previous enchantments doing much of the work. The finger pads of his left hand pressed softly against a shelf filled with boxes instead of books, his right hand clutching a small jeweled box. “Found it?” Stella touched his bare arm, her hand lingering on the firm but tense muscles, forehead pressing against his shoulder blade. He turned, cupping her cheek gently as he smiled.

 

“Mother had it made when I was young, but it was never meant for me.” Chrom pulled away and sank to his knees. Opening the box, he watched Stella carefully, confusion her face. “She hoped that one day I would meet someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. For a long time, I never thought I would, but meeting you changed all that.” He inhaled sharply, almost steeling himself even though she had already answered him. “Will you marry me? I hope your answer hasn’t changed from last night.” Stella’s cheeks colored as tears started to collect in her eyes, staring at Chrom mutely. He took another deep breath, a slight smile on his countenance. “But I wanted to do it properly. Stella, will you marry me?”

 

“Yes.” Her voice was whisper soft but rung loudly in their ears, unable to hold back her tears. He took her shaking hand, though not that his was any better, pressing her fingers against his lips. He pocketed the jeweled box after picking up the silver blue metal band, his own hand unsteady as he slipped the ring on her. It felt cool and warm at the same time, her eyes widening in awe, barely registering Chrom get up from his knees and pull her to his chest. Her right hand curled comfortingly on his chest, both their gazes resting on her left hand. Time almost seemed to stop, until a low, but loud, thunder clap resounded. “We have to go.”

 

Wordlessly, Chrom let their arms drop but held her hand firmly. Stella tightened the twine of their fingers as though somehow everything would be alright. With one last somber glance around the room, they took a step forward, their cloaks fluttering gently as they vanished. Though the idea of heaven was supposed to be a place of peace and joy, it was anything but.

 

**—x—**

 

“How dare you.” Chrom felt his head knock sideways and the sting of his father’s hand on his face. When the blue haired god turned his head back, his expression remained passive but his blue eyes were stormy, dark with simmering anger. Sirius hardly noticed his son’s expression, turning to face Stella. “How dare _you_ show up here as well, _especially_ after tricking my son.” Sirius raised his hand and the goddess steeled herself for a blow but it never came. Chrom gripped his father’s wrist with his left hand, painful despite using his non-dominant side, nails digging into the otherwise pristine skin of the sky god. The blue haired god took a small step towards Stella, blocking his father’s path.

 

“She tricked no one. You fool yourself into thinking you know what’s best for me.” Chrom’s voice ran cold. Any lesser gods would shrink back but those in his company were no such beings.

 

“I know what’s best for you. As your father.” Sirius shook off Chrom’s grip, golden eyes narrowing into slits.

 

“You don’t even know anything that goes on in my life. How does that qualify you to set my future for me?” Chrom sneered. Stella set a hand on Chrom’s shoulder, noticing the practically imperceptible shake of anger.

 

“I don’t need to know every single detail to make the right decisions for you.” Sirius sighed, tired of the willfulness of his only son. He dipped his forehead slightly, cradling his temples with one hand as he shut his eyes in annoyance.

 

“I ate half a pomegranate,” Chrom said matter of factly. “Just so you know.” Sirius’ eyes snapped open, arm dropping slightly as his shoulder blades drew together. If the sky god expected his son to feel sorry, then he was in for a world of disappointment. “Willingly.” At Chrom’s last word, thunder rumbled loudly outside, Sirius seeing red as he whirled his faced Stella.

 

“Why didn’t you stop him!?” Sirius’ voice was low and deadly. If hearing his words could kill, they’d be dead without even realizing it.

 

“Do you think I wanted Chrom stuck in the Underworld, like me, Lon’qu, and Olivia?” Stella spat, dark brown eyes narrowing in contempt. She clutched the blue leather in her hands, trying to steady herself. “Do you think I haven’t been careful about keeping our food away? One _slipped_ my watch and you think I left it there on _purpose_?”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past Validar’s spawn to do such a thing.”

 

“Chrom has a right to live his life as he pleases.” Stella changed the subject, ignoring the stab of pain in her heart. This wasn’t about her and her alone. Sirius could say all the insults he wanted and she’d let it roll off her back. She was used to it, her own father called her useless because she was a girl, the weaker sex. Stella took it all in, never once caring about what someone who didn’t even _know_ her said, but his tyranny on the innocent was the last straw. It was _never_ about her and she was fine with that.

 

“He has no power in your damned dungeon!” Sirius was almost hysterical now, almost, but somehow managed to keep it simmering under a facade of controlled emotion. He breathed deeply, golden eyes shutting for the briefest of moments, steadying the turbulence inside. He would not like be any of the mothers of his children, emotional and needy, though Sirius distantly remembered after one such display, Chrom’s mother never showed him such weakness.

 

“He has some now. The pomegranate isn’t just any fruit.” Stella’s voice was steady, remembering stories she read as a child. “It also means life, regeneration, and marriage.” Chrom half expected her to be a little embarrassed at the last word, even as he struggled to contain his own shock, but was greeted with an even countenance and a headstrong and determined gaze staring back at his father. “Admittedly incomplete as compared to what he would have access to here in the heavens, but Chrom is now far from basically powerless deep beneath the earth.”

 

“So what would you have him do?” Sirius sighed, frustrated at the wilfullness of his son. There was nothing he could do against the laws of the underworld, his carefully crafted future for Chrom now shattered beyond repair. Whatever marriage he had in mind for the god of the seasons and weather was now useless. No one would willingly bind themselves to that wretched dungeon, except apparently his idiot son. He’d deal with the aftermath later, but he had to figure out first how to get everything back to normal when the Falchion was needed to rend the colors but the sword was finicky with who could wield it. “And don’t think you can just pawn off the Falchion and your responsibilities to someone else.”

 

“Mother didn’t raise me to think shirking my responsibilities was ever an option.” Chrom’s eyes narrowed, anger burning in the blue depths as he glared at his father. “Unlike you.”

 

“Whatever issue you have with me can be dealt with later. Now is not the time.” Sirius waved his hand, trying to shake off Chrom’s insinuations, no matter how accurate they were. Sirius never involved himself in the childhood of his son, though he did much the same with his two daughters as well. Why Chrom was the only one trying to give him grief over this was beyond him.

 

“It’s never the time with you.”

 

“Chrom, your father is right.” He snapped his head to face Stella, almost incredulous that she was taking Sirius’ side. Stella shook her head, trying to assuage whatever anger he felt. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t talk about it with him, but people are dying. It’s been months since you left and this terrible winter has laid waste to the surface you’ve shown me. If not for the people then, at least for me, for us, if that’s how you want to look at things. Let’s go out and see the beauty of the world again.”

 

Sirius’ gaze flickered from Stella to Chrom and back, watching him calm down slightly. This diminutive goddess was able to smooth things over with language too flowery for his own tastes, but effective nonetheless. It pained him to think that his son had been right and Validar’s daughter wasn’t the nothing he assumed her to be. His golden eyes took her in.

 

Though he thought her diminutive, it was only relative to the striking height of Chrom, but she stood tall and proud and defiant, her back ramrod straight. Whatever beauty she held, and Sirius grudgingly admitted to himself that there was some, likely came from her mother. The only physical similarity she had with her sire was the intensity of her eyes, as though she could burn through anything with just her gaze. He almost sucked in air sharply when he noticed the book she was holding, her whitened knuckles belying whatever confidence and surety she had. Stella, like all other deities, was still nervous around Sirius, but that wasn’t what surprised him. It was the title of the tome: _Father Sky, Mother Earth, and How the World Came to Be._

 

“Where did you get that?” Sirius’ gaze rested on the blue leather. It wasn’t that he was particularly fond of the book but it was one hidden deep within the library. Sirius wasn’t one to advertise his history, his heritage of cruel sires and powerless siblings. Now the sky god coddled no one and took his duties far more seriously than he did his own children and their own mothers, but save the killing of his own father, he could never be considered so ruthless, so cruel as his forebears.

 

“I gave it to Mother. Seeing it again made me think about how you and Stella actually have something in common, as much as it pains me to say it.” Sirius’ eyes flicked over to his son, an eyebrow disconcertingly and delicately raised in disbelief and a strange sense of curiosity. What on earth did he have in common with Validar’s daughter? He bristled at what he considered an insult, though to Chrom it was more of an insult to Stella that she should have anything in common with his sire.

 

“I killed my own father, for much the same reasons you killed your own.” Her voice was softer now, but still determined. “All because he coveted power, to have everyone fear him, to have every knee tremble and bend at his name, to have the final say at the end of everyone’s life, to send them all to where wailing and gnashing of teeth will be unending.” Sirius spared a glance at the goddess. His siblings were eaten by their own father to make sure none would ever dare take his place as he did of the primordial Sky, all because he was terrified of what he did being done to him.

 

“And how should knowing that soften my stance at all?”

 

“Because though Chrom cannot see how much you care, and you seem incapable of showing it at all,” Stella trailed off, stepping forward and walking up to the towering god. Chrom protested at the idea that Sirius cared at all but a sharp look from Stella sobered him up quickly. “The fact that we are similar means that we only want what’s best for him.”

 

She pressed the spine blue book against Sirius’ chest, right against his sternum, unmoving and keeping her hand in place. Golden eyes gazed at her like a hawk, narrowing with a mix of disdain and confusion until the corner edge started to dig uncomfortably. His expression changed to reluctance and eventually defeat, his fingers clasping around the book, unintentionally brushing against hers, as he held the bound pages securely. He was surprised at how warm and full of life she seemed, always assuming that she would be cold and ruthless like death itself, like her father had been. _‘It seems I have misjudged the little goddess.’_

 

“You are a good man Sirius, but have much work in the art of communicating. Your son ran away from you.” Her eyes were sparkling as she laughed, amused at Chrom’s reddening face, turned away at embarrassment, and Sirius utterly defeated expression.

 

“I give you that,” the sky god relented, crossing his arms but still grasping the book. “But what do you suppose we do about Chrom’s work? Though you assure me he has some measure of power in the Underworld, he doesn’t have the pool of colors there. It simply cannot be transported every time he moves.”

 

“About that…” Stella stepped back in line with Chrom, reaching out slightly and slipped her hand in his. He squeezed comfortingly, hoping that the solution would prove tenable, workable.

 

**—x—**

 

Stella watched as Chrom smacked Gaius at the back of his head, in retaliation for the dragging and the shouting. They had somehow survived an audience with Sirius and the minute they stepped out of his chambers, were promptly dragged along by Gaius. The thief god swore he wasn’t hovering and pacing outside despite the scuff marks on the floor acting as evidence to the contrary. As soon as they were in the comfort of privacy, the orange haired god shoved them both into the antechamber of his office and started yelling at them both. What was more surprising to Chrom was not so much Gaius shouting his head off, even with constant denials that he _wasn’t_ worried, but the fact that Gaius had an office at all.

 

“Well, what are you both going to do now?” Gaius slumped in his chair, spine half against the back of his chair and the actual seat, legs sprawled and arms draped lifelessly along the armrest. His eyes darted from Stella to Chrom, watching as they both fidgeted slightly before seating themselves on the couch.

 

“Six months I’ll be here, six months I’ll be in the Underworld. I’ll be gone during autumn and winter, when the world naturally has a harder time sustaining life to begin with.” Chrom rest his hand on Stella’s knee, drumming his fingers softly against the silk of her dress. “Though someone still needs to rend the colors, I can start to prepare what’s needed while I’m here. Precut if you will. The gods of magic can handle the rest, Miriel especially with her nature. I’m sure she’ll be delighted with the opportunity to see how this magic works, since it’s one of the few she can’t even begin to try and use.”

 

“Isn’t there some other way to work this out? Not that I’m against the two of you, but seems like such a hassle to have to split your time.” Gaius straightened his seat, eyeing the two in front of him.

 

“I’m bound to the Underworld, so there’s not much we can negotiate on my part.” Stella shrugged, nonchalant. “I can leave for an extended period of time because I rule over the place, so I can bend its laws just a little bit but I’ll always have to go back, its denizens _always_ have to go back.” She glanced sideways at Chrom, still upset at his impulsivity but her feelings were mollified because of his intense and deep love. “I could have tried to figure something out but Chrom very nearly tied my hands when he ate half a pomegranate. Interpreting it to mean that eating half the fruit meant having to spend half the year underground was the best I could do.”

 

“You what?” Gaius stared dumbly. Chrom shrugged. “Not that I didn’t expect you to do something like that Mr. Ruled by His Emotions.” The thief god turned to eye Stella almost sympathetically. “Sorry you’re stuck with this dumbass.”

 

“You’re one to speak,” Chrom retorted but with hardly any bite to his words. Peering out the window, he drew a breath. “Well, seems like I should go to work now and start to clean up some of this mess.” Standing, he let his hand linger on Stella’s shoulders. “I’ll see you later?” He smiled softly at her nod, pointedly and purposefully ignoring Gaius all the while. He’d suffer through his jabs later.

 

“So, Bubbles.” Gaius unfurrowed his brow, turning his attention to his remaining companion. “You going to be okay spending half the time apart from each other?” He took on an uncharacteristically serious expression. Though he much preferred his hijinks and shenanigans, let it never be said of Gaius he couldn’t be serious for even a minute when it came to dealing with those he considered important in his life. Stella was still a relative stranger to him, but the fact that Chrom did all that he chose to for the sake of their relationship, well, that was enough for Gaius.

 

“I’ll live.” Stella smiled almost serenely. “ _We’ll_ live. I suppose I can take some time off every now and then to come and visit. Chrom could too but I don’t want him to stay any longer in the Underworld than he has to.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“It’s not exactly the prettiest place. I mean, sure there are some spots, like overlooking Elysium and the different rivers but it’s not really picture perfect.” Stella shrugged almost carelessly, looking out at the window. The snow seemed to start to settle. It was supposed to be winter for a couple of weeks yet but spring would come soon. “You’ve been there. You know what I mean.”

 

“Demons everywhere, dead trees, I can see what you mean.” Gaius nodded somewhat sagely. “But I mean it shouldn’t be all bad. Cordelia says the castle is beautifully tragic.” Stella laughed at the description, amused at the attempt at romanticizing her home. “What?”

 

“Sounds like something Cordelia would say. I’m surprised she let you hear something like that.” Stella settled down, smiling as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Gaius grinned, deciding that even if she had no relationship with Chrom, he liked her. She was easy to talk to, stood up well to good-natured banter, and was a friend of his fiancée.

 

“Well, now that that’s over with, care for some glazed cake and hot chocolate?” Gaius’ eyes sparkled with unbridled enthusiasm.

 

“Don’t tempt me. I’m in the mood for something sweet after all that and I don’t think I can stop myself from indulging.” She glanced back, almost hesitating.

 

“Indulge away, Bubbles. I insist!” Gaius quickly strode over and pulled her up from her seat. “They make the best stuff here. But you’ll have to be the one to get it from the kitchen staff. They always give me a small serving on purpose.” Amused, Stella pat his shoulder with mock concern and let herself be led away by the man on a mission.

 

In the far corner of his own office, Chrom gazed almost listlessly at the looming figure of Frederick. Blue eyes bore back into brown ones, attempting a facade of indifference as he watched the other man walk up to him. Chrom let his left hand grip the hilt of the Falchion, more to hold something familiar than anything else. “What are you doing here, Frederick?” He distantly wondered if his voice broke a little. It was a wonder that in front of his father, the only emotion he could feel was anger. In Frederick’s presence, Chrom could still feel the rage, but it was more from a faint sense of betrayal. He knew of the god’s loyalties to his father, but nevertheless Frederick always took the greatest care in dealing with him and his sisters, putting their best interests forward.

 

“I’m sorry. I… I should have handled it differently.” His remorse was genuine.

 

“I know. You only did what was asked of you.” Chrom brushed past the brunet, picking up a map and unfurling it as he stood in front of the pool. “You could have talked to me.”

 

“Would you have been forthcoming?” Frederick felt an amusement creeping up.

 

“Not… completely no,” Chrom replied honestly, turning slightly to face Frederick. “But the outcome would have probably been better than me disappearing the past six or so months.” The blue haired god took on an unusually sardonic tone. It’s not that he wanted to play on Frederick’s guilt but the man wasn’t going to be able to completely move on if Chrom didn’t at least acknowledge his role in it.

 

“I suppose that is true.” Frederick’s reply was even and measured.

 

“Now then. Half the year I’ll be in the Underworld because I ate half a pomegranate.” Frederick’s eyes widened in shock. “So I’ll need to work more while I’m here to ensure proper management when I’m gone. Will you help me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

**—x—**

 

“What’s wrong?” Lon’qu’s eyes narrowed as he set his knife and fork down. He had his suspicions but sorely hoped they were wrong.

 

“She’s just lonely,” Olivia whispered quietly, placing her hand atop Stella’s. The blonde looked away, staring at the garden through wrought iron windows. “To be honest I am too. It was nice having someone else around for company. It’ll be a few more months until Chrom comes back. We’re only in the towards the end of spring, after all.” The dancer smiled sympathetically, squeezing Stella’s hand lightly before pulling away.

 

“Then go and visit him. It’s not like you’re not allowed to go out.” Lon’qu huffed, his words brusque but well meaning.

 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Stella turned back to look down at her half empty plate, appetite suddenly gone. Pushing her chair backwards with the backs of her knees, she raised a hand to stop her retainers from standing as well. “I’m not very hungry. Stay and finish your meal. I’ll be in my quarters if you need anything.” Leaving no room for argument, Stella quickly walked away, the hem of her dress dragging lightly behind her. Lon’qu and Olivia stared at Stella’s back, her stiff posture but slightly sagging shoulders.

 

“We need to do something,” Olivia whispered, looking at her husband.

 

“And what is that exactly?” Lon’qu went back to eating, unmindful of the indifference it seemed to evoke.

 

“I don’t know, something. She’s not happy. Stella is still doing her work properly and it’s not like she’s alone but we’re not exactly the company she wants.”

 

“She can’t very well abandon her duties, and she would never consider that. She also doesn’t want Chrom here any longer than he has to be,” Lon’qu pointed out matter of factly.

 

“We can figure out something if we try.” Olivia glared at the swordsman but understood that he was just being protective of Stella, still unbearably sore that the goddess fell in love with someone. Still, not surprising with all that she’s been through with her father. They only wanted the best for her and Lon’qu was slow to warm up to the idea that Chrom was exactly that. There was some progress at least, since he had long been training and sparring with the blue haired god, but there was still much work to be done. Lon’qu would still be secretly thrilled if Stella decided to break things off with Chrom and would absolutely murder the god if he did anything to hurt her in any way.

 

The dancer found Stella tucked under the blankets, off to one side of her bed, eyes unfocused but unable to sleep. “Can I join you?” Without any answer, Olivia sat down and stroked Stella’s head, aware of the slight shiver the goddess was trying to suppress.

 

“Funny isn’t it? Being swept off your feet and quickly fall in love and now that he isn’t here, I can’t seem to find much appetite for anything.” Stella dug herself further into her bed, pulling up her knees to her chest.

 

“It’s okay to be lonely.” Stella opened her mouth to retort but Olivia quickly cut her off. “You’ll say Lon’qu and I are here, and that’s true, but what you have with Chrom is different. Lon’qu and I have a life separate from yours and I know you don’t begrudge us that.” Olivia smiled fondly, remembering all the times Stella pushed the two of them together, trying to do what she could without being so obvious that they both confided in her. “You’re different with Chrom. You’re happy and content and there’s nothing wrong with missing him. Your situations are both unfair and I won’t even pretend to know how hard it is but depend on me and Lon’qu a little more. You don’t have to carry all the burden.”

 

Stella curled herself up even more, mulling over Olivia’s words in silence. The comforting hand atop her head was welcome, the dancer’s presence in her too large and much too cold bed even moreso. It was surprising how quickly Stella became accustomed to Chrom, how easy everything seemed to be with him around, and suddenly how difficult and lonesome it was when he was gone. She had her work to keep her busy, but there was only so much of that she could throw herself into and forget.

 

“Stella, go. Lon’qu and I will handle everything for now. I know we can’t pass judgment on the souls but we can keep everything in order while you’re away.” Olivia pulled Stella up from bed, arms locked around her slightly thinner shoulders in an embrace. “You don’t have to stay here everyday. Take a few days off and be with him. If your work piles up a little bit because you’re gone, we’ll manage. Come back everyday and work while Chrom does. Stay if you want to, or don’t, after everything is done, but don’t shackle yourself here when you know you can be with him.” Olivia pulled away and pressed a kiss on each of Stella’s cheeks. “Lon’qu and I will manage. We have each other here. You have us too, but your heart isn’t here right now. Go, go to where he is. Don’t punish yourself for the rules that your father imposed. It’s not your fault Chrom is bound here for half the year. Remember, he ate the pomegranate willingly for love of you.” Stella stared incredulously.

 

Olivia gently and wordlessly pushed her off the bed, Stella stumbling slightly as rough edges dug slightly into bare feet. A surge of confidence welling up inside her, she started to run, unmindful of wearing just a light cloak and no shoes. Everything blurred as her surroundings started to shift from the cold adobe and marble walls to the bright sandstone and limestone of Chrom’s personal quarters. She’d leave it to Olivia to explain to Lon’qu for the meantime, promising not to be gone for too long. Now, her feet were leading her to the dimly lit bedroom, door starting to close slowly as Stella inched closer.

 

“Chrom!” She was breathless, tired, clutching the wood panelings as she sunk to her knees. Stella barely managed to pull away as the door jerked open, her head tilting back almost completely as she stared at dumbstruck eyes.

 

“What are you doing here?” Chrom quickly pulled her inside and into his arms, kicking the door shut with his heel. He pressed kiss after kiss all over her face, jumping from lips to nose and cheek, forehead then back to her lips. “Don’t tell me you ran away and disappeared,” Chrom teased, still and cradling her tenderly.

 

“No, just for tonight.” Stella gazed back at Chrom, eyes half lidded, lashes long and curled just so. “Olivia told me to come here. We’ll figure it out, what more she and Lon’qu can do, so I can leave the Underworld for longer.” Her voice grew softer and softer, body slacking against Chrom as the tightly wound coil inside her started to release tension slowly. “You’re just so busy so I know you don’t have time to come down, and even if you did, I don’t want you to spend any more than you have to in the Underworld.”

 

“Why not?” His voice was soft, shaking almost, as Chrom walked to his bed, setting Stella down gently. He knelt beside her, methodically brushing her hair away from her cheeks as she reached out, cupping his cheek.

 

“You belong in a world with the sun, not shackled deep beneath in the earth. I still regret that you ate the pomegranate. I know we could have found a way to stay together without having to bind you.” Her voice was wracked with guilt, everything coming crashing down as soon as they faced his father. Chrom opened his mouth to correct her, but Stella cut him off. “I don’t regret falling in love with you, but I’m still partly at fault for all this extra work and trouble you’re facing.”

  
“That all?” He murmured affectionately, drawing his hand back, covering her shivering one on his. “I love you. I would move mountains and bear any hardship for you. There’s no one in the world I would ever want to spend the rest of my endless life with.” Chrom leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “It’s not your fault. If that pomegranate wasn’t there, I’m sure I would’ve done some other stupid thing to stay with you. I’m a man often ruled by my heart. Don’t you see I need you to reign in my recklessness?”

 

“You stupid, stupid man,” Stella whispered, curling her body as she finally let her tears flow.

 

“Ssshhh.” Chrom shifted her as he climbed into bed, pulling Stella close. The tears she had been holding back for so long were finally free, the emotional release the starting point of moving on from her guilt and self-inflicted punishment. Chrom rubbed soothing circles on her upper back with one hand, the other rubbing gently along her arm.

 

The next morning found them fitted against each other, as though all of Stella’s dips and curves were made to slot perfectly alongside Chrom’s. Their breathing was steady, despite the obvious tear tracks on Stella’s cheeks. Strong arms slung protectively over her smaller form, her own hands pressed against Chrom’s chest, her arms folded between them. Between the slight gaps of their bodies, the ring on Stella’s left hand glinted as sunlight slowly started to seep between the closed shutters.

 

**—x—**

 

Skilled hands smoothed out Stella’s hair, sectioning it off and working half of her white blonde hair into a fishtail braid. Two pairs of thick locks twisted from either side of her head before meeting in the middle securely. The tied off sections were hidden by a fishtail braid, the tight plaiting teased out slightly for a more relaxed look. Thin ribbons almost the color of her hair held the braid in place. Small snowdrops broke the monotony, dotting through the twists and the braid. The ends of her hair fell right on her shoulder blades, curling daintily. “Perfect.” Cherche smiled warmly as she stepped back and inspected her handiwork.

 

Cherche worked tirelessly, wanting only the best for Chrom’s future wife. She piled thin lace, organza, and taffeta delicately into long tapered triangles, wide at the bottom as they met the waistband, covering just enough to reveal the upward curve of her breasts and the valley between. The taffeta of her skirt was filled with a number of box pleats, spreading outwards for volume, topped with lightly beaded organza for a more ethereal look. Spinning Stella around slightly, the domestic goddess clucked appreciatively at the low back, snug against her frame, mirroring the same deep v-cut as the front.

 

“How do you do it?” Stella glanced over at the mirror, amazed at what a beautifully fit dress and delicately styled hair could do to change her demeanor. She appreciated the workmanship, the hours likely spent toiling over fabric, sore fingers from all the beadwork and hand stitching. The blonde let her fingers graze on top of the fine beads and sequins, the varying shades of off white and cream warm and striking against her skin and pale freckles. The pattern was faintly, but distinctly, floral, scattered everywhere like stars strewn on the sky.

 

“Trade secret.” Cherche winked and laughed, slim arms pulling Stella into a warm embrace. Looking at her now, most wouldn’t believe Cherche had just become a new mother herself, face free of tired lines and dark circles, muscles unbelievably svelte and toned though Stella suspected Frederick’s insistence on fitness to be the reason behind that. “Think nothing of it, my dear. It was absolutely my pleasure to attend to this aspect of your wedding, considering all that you went through in part because of my husband.” The pink haired goddess made the comment sound offhanded but took her own words to heart, as though all this work was some form of apology for all that happened.

 

A loud knock disturbed their quiet conversation, someone asking for permission to come in. The two women turned their heads towards the door, surprise written on their faces when the wood was pushed open. A surprisingly serene-faced Sirius stepped into the room, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, dressed in more formal robes than usual. “I hope I’m not disturbing your preparations? Frederick has told me about your well-disguised temper, Cherche.”

 

“Not at all, my lord. I was just about to leave.” Cherche laughed off the teasing, well aware of her own reputation. Just before exiting the room, she glanced at the clock then back at the two deities left. “There’s only about ten minutes left before the ceremony.” Pulling the door behind her, Cherche silently closed the room and left them to discuss whatever Sirius had in mind.

 

“Roses, lilies, irises, violets, and larkspur. These are bountiful down in the meadows at the base of the mountain.” Stella took the flowers appreciatively, amused at Sirius’ uncharacteristic and sudden bashfulness. “Lissa picked them, Emmeryn arranged the flowers.” She laughed, amazed that Sirius even felt the need to explain how he came to be holding the blossoms at all. Stella was already more than satisfied to have him visit her before the wedding, even if he came empty-handed.

 

“Walk with me?” It was a rhetorical question as she slipped her arm into his, clutching it like a daughter would a father to calm her nerves, the train of her dress sweeping quietly behind her. Sirius nodded as he bent his left arm slightly, guiding his future daughter-in-law along, her fingers holding onto him daintily. “You care, you’re just bad at showing it. Do you know about the different languages of love? Chrom’s is through touch, through action. He doesn’t always need to hear the words, he knows how busy other people can be, but as long as you show him that’s more than enough.” Stella peered at Sirius, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Mine is to hear people say it. Though I seem like I can handle it, I’ve been terribly deprived of hearing words of affection when I was young. You know my father.”

 

“It amazes me that he could ever have a child as thoughtful as you.” Sirius glanced at Stella, giving her a once over and nodding in approval. “Though no less provocative, maybe even controversial, than he.” He shifted, putting his free hand atop hers and squeezing it gently, smoothing away any possible misunderstandings. “Will you forgive me? I have wronged you both and I see it now. You are a strong, confident, and forthright and will do my son much good. I only hope that one day you’ll both grant me this and I can still somehow be a part of your lives.”

 

Wide and glassy eyed, Stella stopped abruptly, jaw hanging slightly in surprise. Sirius turned to face her and quickly looked away, his cheeks warming as Stella smiled gratefully. She tiptoed and pressed a kiss on his cheek, quickly thumbing away any color that transferred. He faced her, surprised at the sudden display of affection but his expression remained soft. “You will, Si-.” Stella paused, almost unsure but continued on. “You will, Father. It’ll take some time, but that’s something we have a lot of, don’t we?”

 

Sirius regarded her cheekiness for a moment, amused and endlessly impressed with the spitfire of a woman he was leading. They stopped just before the gardens, hidden from the many guests behind a pillar. Turning to face her, the sky god squeezed both her shoulders and smiled. “Indeed we do. It seems I have much to learn about my new daughter.” Stella’s cheeks colored as he smiled, distantly reminded of Chrom’s own, as he turned around and left to signal the start of the wedding.

 

**—x—**

 

Stella watched the guests as she leaned into Chrom’s side, right hand held in his, her left crossing over, holding his upper arm. She wiggled her toes, thankful to be free from the high heeled shoes Cherche insisted that she wear. They were leaning against one of the trees off to one side, the entire reception splayed before them, soft blankets strewn everywhere if anyone wanted to laze around. She was completely and utterly content with the entire affair, as casual and relaxed as it could be considering the ones getting married. “Tired?” Chrom tilted his head, resting his cheek on the crown of her head.

 

“A little. Too many people staring.” Brown eyes watched the sun dip even lower, casting a mix of pale orange, purple, and pink in the gardens. Shifting her legs, the bouquet Sirius had given her fell in the small space between them. Chrom was a little annoyed at his father’s display of flowers when Stella told him but she could see through his attempts to hide how it actually touched him. “The wedding was beautiful, don’t you think?” Stella pulled her right hand away slightly, choosing to drag her fingers across Chrom’s now open palm.

 

The ceremony was simple and straightforward: Stella walking down the aisle and going up the dais to meet Chrom and his father, Emmeryn and Lissa off to one side behind their brother, Lon’qu and Olivia opposite them, standing as her family. They passed slices of golden apples between them, downing the fruit with a shared cup of ambrosia. Their vows were read quietly, promises and sweet words kept secret between them as many other couples before them had done. They sealed it with a tender kiss, thunderous but surprisingly restrained applause greeting them when they pulled away. The minute it was over, Lissa quickly ignored her brother and father, jumping into the arms of her new sister.

 

“Cheers to the newlyweds!” Gaius strolled over, cup full of mulled wine in hand, glazed bread in the other.

 

“Thank you,” Stella chirped, tucking her hair behind her ear before settling her freed hand on her lap. “When are you getting married?”

 

“Who says I’m not already?” Gaius wagged his eyebrows, lifting his left hand.

 

“You bastard!” Chrom kicked at Gaius’ feet, friendly exasperation on his face. The thief god sidestepped the attack quite easily. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

 

“Cordelia was going mad with all the preparations so I whisked her away and married her, just the two of us with the moon and the stars as witness and Emmeryn officiating.” Gaius shrugged almost carelessly.

 

“Speaking of which, where is Cordelia? I haven’t seen her since after dinner was served.” Stella craned her neck looking around for familiar red hair.

 

“She’s at home. Cordelia gets easily tired lately and throws up pretty much every morning.” Gaius finished the last of his bread, chewing thoughtfully. Distracted this time, Gaius yelped when both Chrom and Stella coordinated well placed kicks to his shins. “The hell was that for?” His eyes were wide and wild as he stared down to annoyed faces.

 

“You deserve it,” Stella huffed, narrowing her eyes as she stared daggers up at the thief. Gaius grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Sighing, Stella softened. “Update us next time okay? And let me know when Cordelia feels well enough for a visit. We might be spending the next six months in the Underworld but it doesn’t mean we can’t come here for a few hours.”

 

“Go home to your wife. No reason for you to stay here when you so clearly want to go home.” Chrom laughed, equally amused and horrified at the idea of Gaius being a father but knowing the baby already had its father wrapped around its tiny fingers. Sticking out a tongue, Gaius ruffled Chrom’s hair and gently patted Stella’s before leaving. The pair turned their gaze back at their guests, few and far between now. Chrom shifted, setting Stella against the tree as he pushed himself to stand, picking up her shoes along the way. “Speaking of home, want to sneak away as well?” His hand was outstretched, fingers curling up gently as he waited.

 

“Won’t people be worried that you’ve vanished again? The last time you left without word, the world froze over.” Stella laughed, taking his hand as he pulled her up flush against him.

 

“They’ll know,” he murmured, dipping his head and stole a kiss. From the corner of his eye, Chrom could see his father’s gaze resting on them. “And they won’t mind this time. We’ve a wedding night to get started on.” He stole another kiss, pulling back and smiling smugly as he watched Stella sputter and redden.

 

“Scamp,” she muttered, eyes half-lidded as she leaned her forehead against his chest. Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “You sure no one will send a legion out for you if we suddenly leave?”

 

“Absolutely.” Chrom turned around and looked at his father directly. Sirius sipped his wine and settled further into his seat, nodding slowly as he kept his golden eyes on his son and daughter-in-law. “Let’s go home?”

 

“Home.”

 

The sun had already completely set by the time they left. The clock on his six months wouldn’t start until the next day, the last few hours of summer still to come, but Chrom wanted to spend his first night with his wife in the place she grew up in. It was home for half the year, as payment for half the pomegranate he had eaten, but it was also where Chrom had found his heart.

 

“I love you.” Those were their first words as they stepped into their quarters, clothes gently peeled away as Chrom pushed her backwards towards the bed. The straps of her dress hung against her upper arms, cheeks flushed prettily as Stella stared back at her husband. Her chest tightened and heart thumped loudly as she repeated the words in her head, back arching off of the soft mattress as Chrom began to rain down kisses on the column of her throat, her fingers raking across his broad back.

 

I love yous were exchanged repeatedly throughout the night and were their last words as they fell asleep, exhausted and sweat slicked skin pressed against each other. They were the first words spoken when they woke up the next morning and each one after that. They were the last words shared between sometimes chaste, other times passionate kisses deep into the night before lulling off to sleep in each other's’ arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greek myths mentioned: Uranus and Gaia (sort of), as well as Cronus eating his children and Zeus revolting against him and banishing the Titans to Tartarus. The second one is actually from the Hades and Persephone myth, but more a detail than anything else. It’s called the Bouquet of Persephone and these were the flowers that she and her companion Nymphs were collecting: rose, crocus, violet, iris, lily and larkspur. More details from https://lefkasweddings.com/2016/03/19/persephones-bouquet-5-flowers-for-your-wedding-from-greek-mythology/
> 
> The researcher in me also looked up the symbolism of pomegranates and apparently they, fittingly, denote life, regeneration, and marriage [Langley, P. (2000). Why a pomegranate? BMJ: British Medical Journal, 321(7269), pp. 1153-1154. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1118911/]  
> Yes I did bibliographic citation in the APA format… because I’m a grad student… I would’ve used parenthetical citation within the story but then :p
> 
> Here’s also how I imagined Stella’s [ hair](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ab/2e/af/ab2eaf9cd2cd689ecd5e87f780f7df28--fishtail-hairstyles-fishtail-braids.jpg) for the wedding and her [hair](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/66/df/2e/66df2e14a5f3889c51dd00c4705e93bc--deep-v-wedding-dress-spring-wedding-dresses.jpg)! As usual, I spend an inordinate amount of time describing these xD
> 
> Sorry it took a while to finish. Either life things happened or I couldn’t seem to find the inspiration to write more than a few hundred words. In any case, the main story itself is actually finished and I’ve got a short epilogue planned. Hopefully that won’t take too long, since it’s just about the length of one section in this story, and I can post it before next week :)


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last but not least :)

“Grandpa!”

 

The little girl let go of her father’s hand, jumping into waiting arms of a body crouched low to meet her. His white robe enveloped Lucina as she giggled, lifted up and pressed comfortably against his broad chest. These days, Sirius smiled more often, relationships with his children slowly, but surely, on the mend soon after the birth of his first grandchild. “Have you finished packing?” Sirius shifted his arms slightly as he gazed at the last clear sky of summer. Tomorrow, as they always did, they would leave for the depths of the earth.

 

“Yup!” Lucina grinned, gripping her grandfather’s robes as she snuggled against him. “Can’t you come with us? Even for a little while?”

 

“I’ll visit Princess, but I can’t stay for very long. I have much work to do here while the four of you are gone.” Sirius sounded wistful, tilting Lucina for a more comfortable hold. It was strange that he never felt an attachment to any of his own children but the minute he saw this little girl, his heart had been stolen by her tiny hands and sleepy little smile. And just when he thought he’d never feel the same way again, it happened once more when Morgan was born a few years after.

 

“Lucina, why don’t you play with Gerome and Severa with Morgan.” She turned around to face her mother and smiled brightly, nodding at her words. As the little girl squirmed to be let down, her grandfather relented. Just as he started to stoop low, Lucina kissed both his cheeks and jumped off, rushing to her parents and taking her younger brother’s hand in her own.

 

“Can we go to the gardens and pick flowers for Inigo?” Deep blue eyes sparkled in excitement, Morgan’s ears perking at the idea.

 

“Please?” He clutched at his mother’s robes looking a little like an abandoned puppy.

 

“Of course you can.” Stella crouched low and met the gazes of her children directly. “Have fun okay?” Lucina and Morgan nodded, grinning, running off to meet their friends in the gardens. Since the wedding, the five flowers that were in her bouquet had been quietly planted at Sirius’ behest.

 

“You’re certainly different with them around, Father.” Chrom watched two mops of blue hair run off, before regarding the sky god with a slight nod.

 

“I’ve learned a little something about expression since then.” Their conversations were always still short and to the point, but at least better. This time, they didn’t always feel like they were about to lash at each other’s throats.

 

“You both still need work though.” Stella laughed, smoothing her skirt as she stood between father and son, linking her arms with theirs as she started to lead them away. “Come. I think there are flower crowns with our names on them waiting in the gardens.” 

 

**—x—**

 

Sirius fought the urge to twitch  _ something _ : his lips, his fingers, his brow, anything. Crawled on top of him were both Morgan and Lucina, eyes wide with wonder, short arms outstretched, small hands curling on his golden hair that slipped between their fingers. The clumsily made flower crown they worked so earnestly on sat askew on his head. Even with his back facing his son, Sirius could see him doubling over, trying to contain his laughter with Stella’s gaze flickering between the two of them with amusement. If only he didn’t love Lucina and Morgan so much he wouldn’t even think twice about murdering Chrom for such an affront.

 

“You look so pretty, Grandpa!” Lucina’s eyes were shining as she dove headfirst into Sirius’ chest, a satisfied smile on her face not unlike a cat.

 

“Pretty! Pretty!” chimed Morgan, snuggling up to his grandfather in much the same way as his sister. Sirius sighed, a little annoyed but mostly amused at how easy it was to make children happy. The sky god’s eyes fluttered shut, more than happy to spend the rest of the late afternoon huddled beneath the tree.

 

“You look relaxed milord.” A deep voice interrupted them, golden eyes cracking slightly. Hidden slightly behind Frederick was Gerome, a little shy but very precocious. The young boy nodded and bowed slightly, if a little stiffly.

 

“Perhaps spending time with Lucina and Morgan has had something to do with that?” Cordelia offered, her hand atop her young daughter’s head, Severa clutching her mother’s skirts as she hid her face. “Come now Severa,” Cordelia chided gently, hand moving to coax the young girl. Bashfully, Severa curtsied lowly, a soft smile from Sirius sending her back hiding behind her mother. “My apologies, milord, but she’s a shy one.”

 

“Not at all. It is a blessing to see the children get along so well, even if they are a little timid with other adults.” Glancing around, he noticed the lack of their more… relaxed and casual spouses. “Where are Cherche and Gaius?”

 

“With Chrom and Stella.” Frederick jerked his head slightly in their general direction.

 

“Would the two of you terribly mind helping me? These two have fallen asleep and if they’re not off me, I fear my arms will grow numb.” Sirius’ gaze shifted from Morgan then to Lucina. Wordlessly, Frederick and Cordelia picked up the two children, their own watching curiously. “Perhaps it is time to send them back to their parents. They have an early trip tomorrow.”

 

“To where, Lord Sirius?” A sudden well of confidence bloomed in Severa, eyes frightened at the prospect of losing her friends but her face trying to belie her emotions.

 

“To your Aunt Stella’s home. You know how she’s not here all the time when Uncle Chrom is, right?” Sirius stood, stretching stiff arms and spine. The young girl nodded seriously. “Well, she rules over the Underworld and stays there much of the time while Chrom, Lucina, and Morgan are here for the first half of the year. For the second half, they all stay in her home to keep her company.”

 

“Why can’t they all just stay here? Or stay there? It seems too complicated to have to keep moving,” Gerome commented, eyes lost in deep contemplation.

 

“It’s a long story and involves rules that no one can change. When you’re older, maybe you can ask them about it,” Cordelia answered, stroking Morgan’s back as they started to walk. “But just because they’re in the Underworld doesn’t mean you can’t visit. I go there for work all the time. Stella has friends there and they have a son around your age. Perhaps you would like to meet him and become friends as well?” Gerome and Severa turned to each other before nodding, somewhat dissatisfied with the answer but knowing not to press further. After depositing Lucina and Morgan with their parents, the rest of their companions left, save Sirius.

 

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” Wind blew gently past them, the sleeping children squirming slightly.

 

“At first light,” Stella replied softly, eyes half lidded as she cradled Morgan against her chest.

 

“Will you have dinner with me? Emmeryn and Lissa will be joining as well.” Sirius turned to face Chrom expectantly.

 

“We’ll put the children to bed first.” Chrom shifted Lucina in his arms.

 

“Of course.” Sirius turned around to leave.

 

“Thank you, Father,” Chrom called to Sirius retreating back. The sky god smiled but continued walking, off to make arrangements for supper.

 

**—x—**

 

Lucina clutched the bouquet of flowers she collected, Morgan holding a similar bunch in his hands, tottering after his sister. Their footsteps were loud against the adobe bricks of the castle. Their grins grew wider when three familiar figures came into view, breaking into a run as they approached Lon’qu, Olivia, and Inigo.

 

“Welcome back.” Lon’qu was curt as always but smiled softly when Lucina and Morgan greeted him.

 

“Look Inigo! These are flowers from the gardens where Mommy and Daddy got married. We brought some home for you and Aunt Olivia.” Lucina smiled widely, shoving the flowers under Inigo’s nose, effectively hiding his slightly red cheeks. Morgan tugged at Olivia’s clothes as he handed his bouquet to her.

 

“Go on, I know you’ve all missed each other. You can go out to the courtyard and play.” Olivia shooed away the children, sharp laughter starting to fill the normally too quiet throne room.

 

“It’s good to be home,” Chrom murmured, arm wrapping around Stella and pulling her close. The heavens was where he worked but something about the Underworld made it home to him. Maybe it was the quiet after everything was said and done, or the fact that his mother’s soul was nearby, but mostly it was because it was where Stella was from and where he found what was most important to him.

 

“Isn’t it?” Stella sighed, leaning into her husband as her eyes fluttered shut.

 

“Come on you lovebirds, there’s work to be done,” Lon’qu muttered gruffly, yanking Chrom by the collar. The blue haired god protested, the swordsman likely going to drag him through an intense sparring session. Stella and Olivia laughed, watching as their husbands disappeared to somewhere they could keep an eye on the children even while sparring.

 

Chrom was right. It’s good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for putting flower crowns on people from Exalted_Dawn! It’s not… Chrom but close enough? xD
> 
> In my head, Gerome is about 7, Severa, Lucina, and Inigo are all 5 born a few months apart, and Morgan is 2. I’ll leave… when conception happened to your imagination lmao but just that the timelines work, more or less with everything that’s happened.
> 
> Thank you for all your kind and wonderful support! All your comments and kudos mean the world to me. Hopefully I’ll be able to get my next multiple chapter work out soon and work on one-shots and Of Stars and Dragons as well :)

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to message me on tumblr! not that I post often but... eh xD
> 
> main: isananna.tumblr.com  
> wip writing blog: vellumsheets.tumblr.com


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